


Heart Too Cold, but Friends of Gold

by Anika_Ann



Series: Melting Hearts [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), BAMF Reader, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Cute and Less Cute Nicknames, F/M, Family Issues, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Kidnapping, Matt Murdock Deserves Better, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Reader Has Powers, Reader-Insert, Science BS, protective Reader, reader is an avenger, winter is coming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-07-18 15:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16121066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anika_Ann/pseuds/Anika_Ann
Summary: Your life ended the moment you gained your powers and then found your way to the Avengers business. It’s a logical move for a villian to hurt your family to get to you – except no one outside your team knows who’s hiding behind the mask of Frostbite and they think you died the day of the lab accident giving you abilities.Who found out? How? And what is their game? Only if you knew… at least you’re not alone in this.---“You better pick up next time if you want them back in one piece.There’s a photo attached to the message.”“What’s in the picture?”“Your parents.”





	1. Prologue - Just my luck

Happiness did not last. It was a known fact, it was clear as day. Yet, you had let yourself believe for a while.

When you opened the envelope, scolding yourself for your naivety was truly the first thing you did. Or rather the second thing, because the first instinct was to curse.

_“Fuck.”_

Only then came the realization and the flash of anger aimed at yourself.

Happiness was not something to last. When did it ever in your life?

When you had been four years old, you had found the best friend for life or at least you had thought so. Her name had been Emma, she had owned the biggest collection of hair-bands and she hadn’t minded sharing them with you.

Her family moved out from your neighbourhood before you turned six.

Few months after your first day at school – where you had loved it, finding a cheery boy with chubby cheeks and long-ish blond hair to sit with, immediately making friends with him and meeting his other friend, this time a girl again – you had started feeling dizzy and weak.

You had been diagnosed with a disease of incidence of 1: 100 000 000. Just your luck.

While the headmaster of your elementary school had been promising they would provide you with an individual studying plan, they hadn’t. You had to switch schools and you had lost contact with your friends again.

By the time you turned thirteen, you had been to tens of doctors, but all they had been doing had been slowing down the progress of your disease almost insignificantly. You had been sleeping twelve hours a day, exhausted all the time. Any sort of sport had been out of question except walking – short walks, of course.

Your parents loved you nevertheless, even when you could tell that taking care of you, running from one doctor to another with zero results had been draining them. They had dealt with your puberty and depressing thoughts. You had never told them you had wanted to kill yourself and that the one time you had actually started gathering pills, you had flushed them down the toilet in the end.

What you had told them was when you had met a guy at your support group. Ian had been a really sweet guy who had been diagnosed with diffuse large B-cell lymphoma. Ian had been your biggest love so far and the first serious relationship. You had been going through the hard times of therapy; together, since a new hope for your successful treatment had risen.

Ian had achieved a complete remission and his family had moved three states over to get a fresh start; it had been a heart-breaking goodbye. The goodbye fell even worse when not even two months later, the doctor leading your experimental treatment had gotten inappropriately handsy with his ten-year old son and went to jail, crushing your hopes completely.

You had been almost shocked when the alien invasion of New York hadn’t taken your parents from you, considering your luck. It had been the opposite actually, at least you had thought so – there truly had been some kind of luck, because relatively shortly after the City of New York had got hit, a new doctor had appeared out of nowhere.

Of course you had say yes to the new treatment – maybe rather for your parents than yourself.

Once again, you had learned that happiness never lasted. The experiment had gotten out of the team’s hands and it blew up to their faces. Or rather made their blood run cold. _You_ had.

You dying to protect everyone you ever loved and who had stayed – that only being your parents at that point – had been necessary. You had said to yourself that it had been for the best, ending your parent’s misery. After all, they still could have another child, or adopt at least. Cutting the ties had been the only option.

You had been lucky in a way – in return, you had gained a bunch of friends who were now as close as family to you, the best bunch of siblings (slash uncles, because really, Tony and Hawkeye were too much of a father figures to be considered your brothers) and one amazing man to love.

No matter crazy it was, you became a hero of some sort – you had become an Avenger and a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Your family was safe, your parents moving to Pennsylvania to start a new life and after a long time, you were truly happy.

It was a stupid mistake to think it could stick.

Four months after getting together with Steve, you had received a phone in your fan mail, together with a tiny note in a neat handwriting.

‘ _Wait for my call, Snowflake’._

“Steve!” you called out for him, dropping the phone as if it burned. It hit the wooden table with a clank.

You voice shook with fright on the simple syllable. Your heart was fighting its way out of your chest, beating rapidly.

Why would anyone send you a phone? Why would anyone call you a _Snowflake?_ Steve called you that. And no one outside the team knew.

 _Well,_ Matt Murdock aka Daredevil knew, but just like everyone else, he knew better than to call you that; Tony had once called you your captain’s nickname jokingly and Steve shot daggers from his eyes so sharp that no one dared to do so ever since. Plus, this handwriting was way too pretty to belong to a blind man.

Not to mention the fact that you were sure as hell that Matt wasn’t just walking around spilling the beans about your privacy.

“You called? You okay? …had anyone asked you out again?” he teased you in the end to light up his concern. You jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice, snapping your head to him. He was exiting the bathroom, only his sleeping sweats on, his hands busy with drying his hair with a towel. He frowned when seeing your expression. “Snowflake?”

You winced at the addressing, so soft on his lips, yet making your throat tight as the author of the note – a complete stranger – had used the same nickname.

Steve’s brows furrowed as he walked closer, tossing the towel on the bed carelessly. His eyes were examining your face closely.

You couldn’t say a word; all the words, all the panic grew as lump in your throat, tying your tongue.

“May I?” Steve asked quietly as he leaned closer and you nodded, turning back to the desk. Steve glanced over your shoulder, his big palms resting on the table.  

You squeezed your eyes shut, praying the items wouldn’t be there when you would open them again.

Steve’s sharp inhale crushed your hope and told you that you had no such luck.

“Who wrote it?” he demanded, switching from Steve to the Captain in a second. Tears escaped your eyes.

“I don’t know. There’s no address or a signature.”

His warm palm touched your shoulder, squeezing lightly. You could sense the inner fight that was taking place in him, him trying to balance the soothing boyfriend and reliable leader. “We’ll get it to Banner and Stark. Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”

His lips kissed the top of your head and then his comforting presence was gone. He pulled a t-shirt over his head, taking both the note and the phone into his handkerchief so he wouldn’t add his fingerprints on the top of yours and the mailer’s.

Except the phone started ringing on the way to the lab.

“Shouldn’t I…?” you squeaked weakly.

You felt like you had never received all the training, all the hours of Natasha and Steve teaching you how to remain calm in stressful situations. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been through worse; yet, there was something extremely _wrong_ with this, something your intuition was nudging you with.

You couldn’t help it – the way this whoever got so close to your intimate life was scaring the shit out of you and your mind was suddenly blank, all experience and training flying out of the window.

Steve shook his head. “Not until we get to the lab so they could at least trace the call.”

You gulped and followed Steve as he made his way in long steps in rapid tempo. You were trying your best to ignore the annoying default ringtone, but it was like ringing was coming right from inside your head. It was ringing for eternity.

Steve looked at you with worries as it felt silent. His gaze softened when seeing your face and he slowed down his pace. “Hey. We won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.”

You gave him a tight smile neither of you believed and your shaky legs finally brought you to Tony’s lair.

“Oh, there are my favourite frozen friends. What can I do for you?”

“Not really in mood for joking, Stark.”

Tony’s too-much-caffeine-induced cheerfulness fell just like his smile. “What is it? Why do have these faces?”

You looked at Steve, hoping he would do the talking. He barely opened his mouth when the phone beeped again, this time with a text.

Steve frowned at the screen, his eyes going wide and his shoulders tensing.

“What is it?” you whispered almost soundlessly.

You could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he raised his gaze to you. His expression was one of horror. You were too scared of what he had seen to check the screen yourself.

“There’s a photo attached to a message,” he announced, his voice strangled. What on Earth could make _him_ sound like that?

“What does it say?” you asked hesitantly, while Tony spoke up at the same time. “Whose phone is that?”

 _“You better pick up next time if you want them back in one piece,”_ Steve read out loud and quickly looked away from the phone.

Your heart stopped. Want what back? Want _who_ back? Who the fuck was threatening you and what they were threatening you with?

You cleared your throat while Tony walked to Steve’s side, impatient with the slow progress. He froze too, shooting you an alarmed look.

“What’s in the picture?”

It was a rhetorical question, really. Deep inside, you already knew. There was someone threatening you, most likely with a picture of _someone_ you would want back, and they had somehow got close enough to you to know you were being called Snowflake by the man you loved. There was no doubt they figured out your identity and there weren’t many people they could have targeted.

Steve raised his gaze to you, blue eyes serious and full of sorrow, confirming your suspicion with only two words.

“Your parents.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some more reader insert with The Avengers and Steve, ’cause my brain is misbehaving. Fair warning, the updates will be slow for me, I think.
> 
> BUT I am actually (and mostly mentally) working on the Verdevil stuff too (it’s going to be a crossover, by the way… love me some crossover, always a crossover, everyone deserves a crossover).


	2. 1) Know the enemy

Tony barely managed to plug in the phone to his magical tech when the annoying ringtone cut the air again.

You had been sitting on one of the stools in his lab, staring ahead blindly. You had seen your parents, family dinners and tiny cute birthday parties in a close circle of the few people who still cared. You saw your dad’s proud smile when you finished high school despite all the odds of your poor health and your mother’s tears on the same occasion, the small dinner they took you to after, because you loved it there and you had preferred it to some fancy restaurant.

A squeeze on your hand brought you back to the present and you blinked, looking up to Steve’s face. A shadow of concern was there, but he gave you an encouraging smile you. You gulped, eyeing the phone as if it could explode.

“Gonna put in on speaker, sounds good?” Tony hummed, already accepting the call and truly setting it so all of you could hear the caller. Steve’s hand never left yours.

“Hel-hello?” you spoke up quietly, mentally cursing. Too low. Yet, the person on the other end of the line must have heard you, because he responded.

“Hello, my darling!”

Steve’s grip tightened as the man greeted you cheerfully and Tony quickly started typing on his silent keyboard to trace the call. You closed your eyes, the picture of your parents, each tied to a chair and a tape covering their mouths, swimming behind your eyelids.

“What do you want?”

There was a short silence following your question.

“Straight to business, I like that,” the man commented, his voice, immediately burned into your brain like a brand, sobering up. “I wanted you attention.”

“You have it.” _You have no idea how much attention you have, you dickbag. Touch them and I swear I’ll rip you open with my teeth._

 “Obviously, Snowflake.” You winced, just like Steve, who was trying to keep composed by your side. “I’d like a meeting.”

“Why? Why would you kidnap those people? What-“

“Told ya. Wanted your attention. Gotta admit, your backstory is less interesting then I thought, but Michaelses always had high expectations.”

There was a bitter note behind his words and your lips parted. What the fuck? Was he trying to lead you astray? Or did he really just introduce himself? Both men present with you seemed as surprised as you were – Tony’s eyebrows were up, while Steve’s face darkened. He didn’t like the man revealing himself so easily and honestly, neither did you.

“Why do you want to meet?”

_To kill me?_

“Big fan of yours. But with how much fan mail you get, I figured I needed something… bigger.”

You gritted your teeth at the painful pang of anxiety attacking your stomach. Yeah, sure, kidnapping your parents was a bit _bigger_. How the hell had he figured it out? There was no chance this Michaels didn’t know who you were, no chance of your parents being the abducted ones being a coincidence. Yet, you needed to be sure.

“And you thought kidnapping two innocent people would do?” you strained through your teeth.

Tony gave you a thumb up and lighted up the big screen – he located the call. Naturally, it was from Pennsylvania; right at the source.

“Worked, didn’t it? I’m sure your friends already traced the call to the right building, so now nothing stands in the way of our meeting-“ You shot Steve a panicked look – this guy knew very well what he was doing. He must have known how precise the program was, using the military network. _How could he know that?_ “-so why don’t you come tomorrow at 8 a.m.? I would set the meeting earlier, but I tend to be cranky before having my coffee.”

Steve’s expression was one of furious, veins on his arms ascending as his free hand curled up into a fist. His other forearm was pale; you realized you had been subconsciously tightening your grip on his hand and what was worse, your powers started working on their own, cooling the limb down.

You immediately let go, shocked and horrified. After that, you didn’t think your horror could escalate, but obviously, you were wrong.

“Also, leave your group of merry men and deadly woman home. If you won’t come alone, I’ll know. And if I’ll know, they’ll die.”

Steve shook his head rapidly, his eyes hard and disapproving. Tony was trying to get your attention, waving his hands. _‘Prove of life,’_ he mouthed.

You breathed in shakily, closing your eyes. You were out of options. You whole body, every single instinct was screaming at you to tell him to go screw himself, because it was an obvious trap, but you didn’t have a choice.

He had your parents. There was only thing you could do.

“8 a.m. it is. I’ll come. _Alone,”_ you added firmly, ignoring Steve’s hand grabbing your arm and pulling lightly to make you face him.

You opened your eyes slowly, meeting his – they were speaking to you soundlessly, scolding your for even thinking about negotiating with the man and meeting him on your own. You let yourself drown in the sea of outraged blue, surprisingly calming you despite the emotions promising you a fight behind it. You found yourself strangely relaxed, an insane reaction to this mess.

“But I’m gonna need a permanent prove of these people being alive.”

Steve’s gaze softened with compassion and you pretended it didn’t do things to you. You fooled no one.

“Obviously. Accept the video feed,” Michaels ordered and Tony clicked on the icon, another big screen lighting up with a face of a man.

JARVIS automatically started the recognition program, while you automatically sorted info about him. White male in his forties, a bit round face, dark stubble, piercing grey eyes. Two-inch scar above his left eyebrow. It was impossible to guess his built with his body out of the frame.

“And you know, you can cut the game of calling them ‘people’. I know who they are to you,” he exclaimed, one corner of his lips rising.

You swallowed loudly as he disappeared from the frame then, turning the phone and showing you old industrial metallic door. He nudged them with his foot and they opened easily.

You stopped breathing, your heart stopping as well. Your palm fled to cover your mouth as tears gathered in your eyes.

Here they were; the scene in front of you resembled the photo you had received, so he must have taken it from the very same angle. There wasn’t any change really, but for that you were actually grateful. You parents were still alive and breathing, their scared eyes flashing to the camera for a second before they lowered their gazes to the floor again. Your mother’s shoulders shook, her sobs muffled by the tape over her mouth.

The table you set your fist onto covered in thick layer of ice. You quickly raised it again.

“See, Frostbite? Living and kicking. Let’s keep it this way. You’ll hear from me every half an hour so you know your precious p-“ you held your breath in anticipation. Had he told them? Was he about to tell them now? _“-people_ are still breathing. Can’t wait to meet you, _Snowflake.”_

And then the line went dead.

You sobbed, folding like a house of cards under a slight breeze. Steve shifted in his position, wrapping in his strong arms around you instead of the simple challenging grip on your arm, and you instantly reached for the comfort he was offering. He placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Hey, we’ll handle this-“

 _“Alone,”_ you whimpered, your voice muffled by his t-shirt. You could feel him shaking his head.

“Not an option. We’ll figure something out. Tony? Who’s this guy?”

“Frederick Michaels. Former employee of… well, me. Stark Industries. MIT graduate, summa cum laude. Just your average IT guy here. Fired a year ago,” Tony informed him swiftly. He didn’t need an encouragement to elaborate. “For harassment. That poor woman had to take a half-year of therapy. Jeez, I wouldn’t be surprised if Pepper had been the one to pack his bag herself. She’s allergic to that stuff.”

You allowed yourself breathe in at the mention of Pepper Potts. That woman was a goddess among men, ultimately badass in a bit different way than Natasha. And you needed to be all kind of badass now. You retreated from Steve’s hug, rising from your stool. Yet, you didn’t quite leave Steve’s personal space, comforted by the heat he was radiating. You eyed Tony.

“Why would he target me?” _Why would he target my parents?_

“Given his history, I would say it’s your outfit, it’s very tight on the right places-“ Tony hummed, cut off by Steve’s murderous gaze, “-but this seems much more complicated than that. Why don’t you chill while everyone else gets here? JARVIS?”

“Already sent an alert to Agents Romanov and Barton as well as Doctor Banner, sir.”

“That’s what I’m talking about, the team working like a swish watch. He picked the wrong team to mess with. We’ll deal with that bastard in no time, no worries, Frosty.”

Despite yourself and the air so thick in the room you could cut it with a knife, you smiled.

“Also, get that ice from my table, Elsa. Your manners suck.”

You did as he asked, trying to ignore the anxiety at your powers going haywire – you had other things to worry about now. But you could feel Steve’s worried gaze at the back of your head as your hand hovered over the mess you had made.

He was shaken by that as much as you were, but you never got to talk about it, because Clint entered the laboratory with a yawn.

“What’s up, ki-“ The words died in his throat when he saw the frozen frame of two civilians tied to chairs. “Where’s the fight?” he asked instead and Tony sighed, zooming the map replacing the ugly picture.

When the red dot appeared in a town called Snow Shoe, you almost send an icicle through the hologram, really not appreciating the irony.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the chapters being rather short, but I’m just happy they exist :D ;)


	3. 2) The real problem

It was an early night when you had brought the phone to Tony – now it was after midnight and to say that the Avengers were like kids on their lunch break, loud and trying to shout the other one down, would be an understatement.

“She’s not going there alone!” Steve thundered in response to Tony’s suggestion, his body language screaming louder than his voice. He was leaned forward towards Tony, who was sitting on his stool, frowning at the blueprints of the building. It was incredible how _precisely_ the call tracing with his tech worked.

“They asked her to do so, we can’t exactly walk in, all geared up, including the other guy,” Bruce noted, admirably calmly given the mess the lab was.

“I don’t give a damn! There’s a maniac who kidnapped her parents and knows very intimate things about her. There’s no way-“

“Well, maybe you should have been more careful with your PDA-“ Tony hummed.

“I’m being careful!”

“Is that really relevant now? We can talk about that later. If you look at the blueprints, you can predict  the positions of the guards. And she can-“ Natasha started, immediately rejected.

“You can’t be serious-!“

“-she _can_ take them down, Cap,” Clint finished Natasha’s thought. He was another rather stoic figure in the room. Yet, he spoke in loud voice to make sure he would be heard even over some protests.

“It’s not gonna be easy, sure. But-“

“Technically, I can send the legion with her. They aren’t really teammates. Boom, no condition broken.”

“Talk about being _literal.”_

“This guy seems insane enough to be a perfectionist. I’m sure he would appreciate it,” Tony grinned, playing with a pen in his hand.

“This isn’t funny, Tony. We can’t afford any mistake. One wrong move to set this guy off-“ Steve started and Tony shot him a confused glare.

“I’m sorry, which side you’re on now? You don’t want her to go alone, but you want her to go alone…?”

Steve inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring. His hands curled up into fists. He was ready to scold the billionaire again, but he never got to it.

A new voice joined the discussion, interrupting. Yours.

“That’s enough!” you shouted, making everyone’s head snap at you in surprise. Clint and Bruce actually blinked, shocked. Natasha smirked as if she was saying _‘about damn time’_. Steve looked at you with a mixture of compassion and guilt for neglecting your presence. And Tony… well. Tony raised his eyebrow. You lowered your voice – strangely enough, it was easier to detect the tremble in it like that, which was a bit impractical. “That’s enough. I’m right here…”

“Care to share your opinion?” Natasha nudged slightly before returning her gaze to the blueprints.

You gulped as you felt everyone else’s eyes on you. You opened your mouth uselessly, trying to marshal your thoughts as they kept buzzing and changing any other second.

“We can’t afford him to think I’m not alone, it’s too much of a risk,” you began, already seeing Steve taking a breath to oppose you. You raised your index finger to shush him. “I can’t go alone. Not completely. I’m not… I just _can’t_ do this alone.”

Your voice trailed off as the icy fist of fear squeezed your stomach.

How could even you be able to do that? Save someone on your own? Your own parents of all people? You couldn’t afford to— you _mustn’t_ fail. But you were not strong enough. You could feel your hands shaking, tears gathering in your eyes at the thought of going there and _losing them_.

You muffled a sob with your palm, blinking the tears away. You knew the team had their eyes glued to you, but you couldn’t make yourself meet anyone’s gaze.

“I… I need you to come with me as close as possible. Be my support via the comms, just so I know I’m not— I’m not alone in that. And-- and if I’m failing--- if I’m taken down-“

“Snowfl-“

“If I’m down, you _have to_ get there and do everything in your power to save them. Can you do that for me?”

This time, you forced yourself to look into their eyes. Natasha and Clint were easy – you knew they would be with you and that there wouldn’t be too obvious pity in their expressions. Tony nodded in the tiniest motion, just like Bruce, who added an encouraging smile.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before facing Steve. His features were twisted in concern and discomfort of his own, obviously struggling with the thought of letting you do this. But you could tell by the sincerity in his eyes that he wanted – oh god, he wanted so bad – to trust you to handle it and that he welcomed the idea of being with you at least in a form of a voice in your ear.

“I don’t like it,” he announced simply, crossing the distance of two steps between your bodies. You licked your lips as you tilted your head back to keep the eye contact. He hovered over you as you were still on your stool, feeling as small as never.

“Me neither.”

“I hate it, to be honest,” he whispered, bringing his large palm to cup your cheek gently. His gaze was roaming your face, his mind no doubt racing. “I rather came with you, I rather made sure-“

“I know,” you breathed back, leaning into his touch gratefully.

Just that simple touch, so comforting and safe made you want to lay everything down. To curl up in his embrace and let the others deal with the shitstorm coming at you – the shitstorm that had already arrived. But you knew you couldn’t.

You started into the sea of blue, flashes of emotions flickering in it before it all settled on determination, on the firm foundation you needed now.

“I’m gonna be with you as long as I can and then right behind you in case you would need _any kind_ of help. Not just if you-“ his strong voice faltered, his brows furrowing at the memory of you suggesting you would go down trying to save your parents. “You won’t be alone. I’m with you.”

You pressed your lips together to hold another sob in, this time touched by the care and by the heaviness of the promise. You smiled at him tightly, hoping he understood how much you were grateful.  He must have got the message, because he unsurely returned the smile before leaning in and kissing you forehead lovingly.

“She’s not just yours, you know,” Clint scoffed, no doubt trying to cover up the fact he was actually touched by your exchange.

“No shit,” Tony added.

The very same second, you noticed an object arriving in high speed at Steve’s head. Your hand shot up, firing it away on pure instinct. The item fell on the floor, shattering with tiny clink.

Steve winced, his lips still millimetres from your skin.

“I don’t think you need to worry about her, Steve,” Bruce noted, slightly amused and you bit your lip guiltily as you eyed what had used to be Tony’s pen.

Well, he shouldn’t have tossed it!  

Why had he done that? To prove a point? To Steve or to you? ‘Cause it kinda worked on you, just FYI.

“Of course he doesn’t need to worry. I’ll run the guards positions down with her and she’s gonna kick ass. She’s a woman, after all,” Natasha exclaimed confidently and you wondered if she winked, since you couldn’t see her.

Their words warmed you more than you would be willing to admit.

\---

Of course, all the warm fuzzies were gone as you found yourself on the quinjet heading near to a town of fucking Snow Shoe in Pennsylvania, because this Michaels guy probably thought he was being funny.

The truth was that he was being a dick.

And he was disturbing your calm every single time you felt like gaining your composure for a sec – which was about every half an hour. At least he was keeping his promise and was supplying you with evidence of your parents being alive.

Steve had offered you to get some sleep before heading out, but he had known as well as you that there had been no chance you would have fallen asleep, not even in his arms that always gave you the feeling of security. He had provided that sensation at least, quietly lying on bed with you for few hours.

He had only disturbed the comfortable silence once, when he had said he loved you more than anything and that no matter what, he would stay by your side. You had only managed to nod, no words coming out despite the urge to assure him of feeling the same. You had let your lips to say in without making a sound, meeting his own in what could only be described as a desperate and clingy kiss. He hadn’t complained, only accommodating you and wrapping his arms around you tighter.

He could be goddamn sure you reciprocated his love then.

But now, you were tapping your foot nervously, the jet approaching its destination rapidly. It only meant last few minutes before they would seat you on your own smaller jet to arrive at the facility supposedly alone as you had promised. Your heart was beating its way out of your chest in a furious pace and your foot was successfully seconding it. Steve’s hand was rubbing your arm soothingly, while Natasha was sitting by your side, letting you ask the same questions about the best approach over and over again.

It confused and scared the shit out of you when Tony , who had been slowly walking back and forth, spoke up, interrupting your mantra of _“Oh, god, oh god…”_ and Steve’s _“Hey, hey, you’re gonna be fine, you can do this and we’ll be right behind you. I believe in you.“_

“Is no one concerned about the fact we had a major intel leak?”

Steve’s hand stopped the periodic motion on your sleeve and he shot Tony an incredulous look. “Is it really relevant now?”

Tony’s eye flickered to the right, to the left and then back at Steve, seeming confused. “Yes.”

“I think we have bigger problems-“

“What? No, we don’t. I’m actually the only one seeing _the_ _bigger problem._ She’s dumbstruck, ‘cause  her parents have been kidnapped-“ Even Tasha shot him a glare at that. “-you only care to be a good shoulder to cry on, Miss Superspy is making a face like she’s trying to figure out a plan of attack we have already planned and Clint’s pretending to pilot the jet that could pilot itself. So yeah, I’m bringing the real issue up.”

Steve rose to his feet, towering over the shorter man. Tony actually gulped before settling on a carefree expression. “I think you should bring up _the problem_ somewhere else-“

The spark of warmth at Steve standing up for you mingled with the shame you as realized that Tony actually did point out the real problem. The leak was much more serious for the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D., but you couldn’t help your behaviour goddammit. Someone had taken your _parents_ and threatened to _kill them._ Fuck training, this was personal and you were not a freaking robot.

Yet… there was no denying you needed to get your shit together and that Tony had a point.

“He’s right,” you whispered, staring ahead blankly.

“I am?” Tony blurted out, surprised by your support – he wasn’t the only one taken aback. You eyed him, trying to remain somewhat composed – vainly. He blinked. “I mean, of course I’m right, that’s what I’ve been saying, I am _always_ right-“

“Everyone always thinks they are right, Tony.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, her focus leaving the tablet with the blueprints of the building for a sec, and she patted your shoulder. “Come on, time to get you on a jet. I’ll show you the best approach once more.”

You instantly felt like throwing up. This was it. This was it and you were everything but ready.

“I’m coming with,” Steve offered, watching you hesitantly, unsure what he should think about you agreeing with Tony and your emotional recovery.

Eh, there was no recovery. You just did the whole ‘fake it till you make it’ on the outside, because it seemed like a way to go. You suddenly felt a ridiculous desire to calm down _everyone else;_ you weren’t sure what it meant. Was this your intuition telling you that you were gonna die, so you needed to sooth them while you still could?

Your stomach rolled over at the thought and you immediately dismissed it. Thank god you had no mind-reader on your team – they would probably punch you for that stray thought.

Steve’s hand found yours as he led you to the jet. The touch grounded you a little. You weren’t dead yet.

And neither were your parents.

\---

The old geology research facility was a four-storeyed building of which only two floors were above ground, mostly offices, and two under; a storage room and labs. With a flat roof, there was really no questioning how you should get in and how to clear your path.

It must have been obvious to Michaels as well, yet, when you landed on the roof with the jet in the refractory mode, there was no greeting for you. The roof was silent, not even a breeze playing with your hair and it was scaring the shit out of you.

“Still hear me, Snowflake?” Steve asked gently in your ear and you nodded, realizing too late he might not have seen you.

You had sensors in your suit, tiny cameras searching for heat signatures, so Steve and Natasha were your eyes as well. It was a huge comfort, but you were almost sure that the moment you would go underground – if not sooner – the signal would be jammed and you’d be on your own. You hadn’t share that particular worry. They worried enough as it was.

“No sign of activity on the roof.”

“Right behind the door is another story. Three men. Armed,” Natasha announced and you took a deep breath, feeling your powers tingling in your fingertips.

“Right behind the door?” you asked quietly as you approached and Natasha immediately confirmed.

_Well. Let’s start._

You threw your hand in front of you, sending a huge gush of ice flying in high speed. The door were knocked out from its hinges with a loud clank – and hitting three people on its way, two of them staying down, the last one receiving a punch to his face to follow them. He fell on the ground.

“Very subtle,” you heard Tony from a distance and you clenched your teeth at the comment. Yeah, you knew, but you had come to conclusion they knew you were coming, so there was really no reason for subtlety. Natasha agreed.

“Thanks, Tony,” you hissed back, sidestepping the bodies, squinting into the poorly lit hallway with a stairwell.

Your pulse was pounding in your ears loudly, but at least you weren’t out of breath yet, which was something you wouldn’t achieve if you beat your way through the caveman style.

“You’re doing great, Snowflake.”

The feeling of warmth in your chest at the praise was short-lived, but it was undeniably there. You could do this.

Right? 

Four more guys appeared in their tactical gear a second after Natasha warned you, their riffles aimed at you – you iced the weapons on instinct, making the thugs drop them with surprised hisses. The next second you touched the railing, immediately covering two closest sets of stairs in slippery ice.

The men, who sprang into action running against you, flew backwards as their feet betrayed them. One of them landed flat on his back, the impact knocking him unconscious, another one rolled down the stairs ungracefully and stayed down as well. It left two guys staring at you with mixture of anger and fear. You sent two icicles flying their way, pinning them both to the wall by their arm or leg. They screamed in agony. You shut them up as you walked down the stairs, punching them on your way. The ice melted obediently as you barely thought of it.

It was equally amazing and terrifying how intuitive the abilities had become. At the moment, amazing was winning over, because you _needed_ it. It calmed your nerves a little, giving you the confidence you desperately craved for.

Gunshots rang in your ears as you descended to the ground floor and you quickly created a wall of ice to slow down the bullets. One of them grazed your right arm anyway and you hissed as the sharp pain that shot through your bicep.

So much for confidence. The line between confident and smug was scarily thin and the throbbing in your arm proved it. Also, the connection with the team must have failed or weakened significantly. Your heart jumped back into your throat, the familiar fear growing.

The ice started shattering under the attacks, but before it could, you sent a black ice the men’s way through the floor.

The gunshot didn’t fall silent, but an admirable amount of cursing joined as the bullets started missing the target – you. You didn’t allow yourself to feel relieved or god forbid smile.

You took a deep breath, getting ready. You let the wall resolve, both of your arms prepared to do their magic.

 _Riffles first. Their feet to the floor next_. Then you froze the thugs who were already lying bleeding  on the floor to the ground, so they wouldn’t get back up. With only three more standing, unable to move their legs, you didn’t have exactly a difficult job. They tried to manoeuvre their bodies and reach for their weapons, but the moment they got near to the ice on the floor, you let it grow up and trapped them too.

Their cries echoed through the hallway, the sound creeping into the marrow your bones. You ran to them, silencing the screams. You didn’t even feel the pain in your arm as you punched their faces anymore.

Only when they went quiet, you realized Steve was talking to you.

“Report! Come on! Are you okay?” he demanded and you guessed he had been trying to reach you for a while.

“I’m fine,” you murmured and then touched your earpiece to repeat the statement louder and clear. Not to mention flatly, which clued Steve you were lying through your teeth.

“That’s a lie. Where are you hurt?”

“Arm.” Sharp intake of breath. “Graze. Fine.”

You didn’t even realize you reduced your replies to monosyllabic ones. Your mind raced as you had a picture of the building burned into your brain, imagining what would come next. You needed to move, goddammit. You didn’t have time to chit-chat.

“Snowflake-“

You turned off the comms and turned around a corner that led to another stairwell. You quickly took cover when bullets welcomed you. You only glimpsed one guy – kinda sloppy. Then again, the hall was very narrow and there was not much space for more men.

You pushed against the wall you were hiding behind, spreading a thick layer of ice as far as you managed. The moment the guy yelped in shock and lost his focus for a second, you peeked from your hideout and send icicles his way. A scream confirmed you hit your target. Another one down.

The way down the stairs was almost too easy. You soon found yourself two floors underground, a hall lined with doors leading to several labs. Because _of course_ there were labs, you _came_ from a lab, your Frostbite persona anyway, and Michaels apparently relished irony.

You only met five more men on your way. You peaked into each laboratory, never finding a single person. You had agreed with the rest of the team that Michaels would probably be at the end of the hall, in the last door, but you had to check.

The further you walked, the more you were slowing down, your chest tightening with each breath. Your insides twisted painfully. Your steps turned shaky, your hands trembling inconspicuously. _Fuck_. You weren’t prepared. Tears stung in your eyes and all you wanted was to run away.

You couldn’t.

So you stopped in your tracks at the end of your road and tenderly placed your palm on the last barrier, turning it into an ice fragile as glass. You breathed in shakily, trying to sooth your nerves, getting yourself ready for the sight of your parents – and their lives possibly hanging on a treat.

You fooled no one; it was not something you _could_ prepare for. Neither for the possibility of you actually dying on this very personal mission. But you knew that more time wouldn’t help you accept either of that; hell, you couldn’t _afford_ to lose time. The watch that Tony had given you and you had completely forgotten about during the fight beeped.

It was signalling there were only five seconds until 8 a.m.

_Four._

_Three._

Your free hand brushed the frozen door.

_Two._

The metal shattered into thousands of pieces under your touch, falling to the floor with tinkling that should not sound as ominous as it did.

_One._

The door shattered; and you had a feeling you would be next.

You looked up.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a great deal of the fic, but I still couldn’t make myself write the action – that’s why it took so long. Hope you didn’t suffer through it too much :))
> 
> I promise to add the next chapters a bit faster, if you’re interested ;) I’m confident enough to say that since I had a lot of fun writing them, you’ll have more fun reading them too, which is not something I say lightly.
> 
> Kudos to you, if you comment or/and leave ♥!


	4. 3) Dead woman walking

You knew you were not ready to see your parents ever again. You were sure as fuck you did not brace yourself to see them with a knife at their throats.

All remains of your cool, all the confidence you had gained when fighting your way through, it all turned into ash.

You were a helpless kid again – helpless and ill, finally seeing their mother after an endless procedure and all you wished for was to curl up in her arms and let her cradle you in her warm and safe embrace, where everything got better.

You felt the air being knocked out from you, tears prickling your eyes. Your dad was right next to her, a huge man holding him in some sort of a headlock, blade on his throat. His expression was one of horror; the fact you might have been the true source of his fear stung your gut sharper than you anticipated.

Your mother was simply crying, watching you with mixture of healthy respect, fear and hesitant hope. It broke you even when you knew she could never ever recognize you like this.

You sprang in her direction first, but a man waiting behind the door on your left surprised you, lunging after you. You shushed the yelp and the pissed off ‘ _sloppy’_ that sounded in your head and caught his arm on you, flipping him over, knocking him unconscious with your fist covered in ice.

The one appearing right behind him ended up with his feet frozen to the floor with two thick columns of ice, your sole in his abdomen. Also, his hand received a bit of a frostbite when he aimed his gun at you. And then you punched him in his face twice. He fell down.

“If I had free hands, I would clap,” sly voice commented, sending icy shivers down your spine. You snapped your head to him, your ponytail flying with the swift movement.

Oh how you had learnt to hate and despise that voice in just few hours. If you would have fallen asleep during the time between receiving the phone and your arrival here, you would have heard him in your nightmares.

You barely made a move towards him when the click of his tongue stopped you, his gaze focused on the blade of your mother’s skin. You froze in the middle of your step.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, Snowflake.”

Your nails dug into your palm at the addressing, the action followed by his cheeky smile. God how much you craved for freezing that smile and punching all of his teeth out.

“Let them go,” you hissed, not caring if you sounded cliché or not.

He seemed to consider for long seconds, his gaze getting distant.

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” he replied in the end, meeting your eyes again.

You would swear you saw a flash of madness in them; your heart stopped at that. Mad people had nothing to lose. Who had nothing to lose did whatever he wanted.

You gulped. _How do you get through to a psychopath?_

You had no better plan than offering yourself in exchange – you were not afraid of showing your weakness, he had already knew it after all, he had used it to get you here.

“Please. You don’t have to hurt them. You got my attention. I’m here. These people are innocent,” you pleaded in shaky voice, glancing at your parents’ faces again.

Their expressions twisted with fear made you want to cry and curl up in a ball.

_Here I am, you fucking bastard. Here I am, so let them go. For god’s sake, just let them go. I was supposed to die years ago and if not that, than at least months ago. I am in relative peace with my death and so are they. But not with their own._

They were both crying, eyes puffy and their features worn. It seemed like the exhaustion they were used to was nothing compared to this, this time not settled into their bones; no, the weariness was now eating their bones like a disease.

Your mother was a kindergarten teacher and your dad was an accountant after all. They were not built for this shit. They were never meant to go through this. They didn’t deserve it. And yet, here they were. Because of you. And because of him.

“Just one ‘please’? I would expect more from you…. After all, their lives should matter to you greatly. Don’t you think, Madam?” he whispered to your mom’s ear and your hand jerked their way. “Oh come on, don’t be stupid. She’ll be dead before you even try. That’s not how this works. Beg.”

The hate coiling in your abdomen fought with fear. The instinct of being a good girl and do as he asked so your parents, the people you loved endlessly, wouldn’t be harmed any further, and the instinct of a fighter, developed during your moths as an Avenger were in a  furious battle and no one was winning.

Except Michaels.

“Get on your knees. _And beg.”_

Your jaw clenched as he beckoned to his friend; the man added a bit of a pressure and suddenly the thinnest trickle of blood went down, sinking into your father’s collar. He wore a blue shirt – you didn’t think this could get any more ironic. You obediently sunk to your knees, your eyes locked with his.

The floor around you covered in black ice in perfect circle without you intending it. You ignored it and sought out their captor again. “Please. Please, don’t hurt them. I’m _begging_ you.”

His lips spread in a smile. “Not bad, sweet-cheeks. Now, why don’t you take the eye-mask off? So they know why they’re gonna die?”

You glanced at your mother’s pale face and that was enough to bring tears into your eyes. Your hands shook as you placed them both on the edges of your mask, slowly, oh so slowly stripping it.

You raised your gaze hesitantly, not even faking the reluctance – you just gave up one barrier that was separating your true identity from your Avenger persona. Today, you had given your money on two more things – the voice disguiser and the skin thin mask S.H.I.E.L.D. was using to conceal someone’s face so no one could suspect a thing. It was an incredible technology that worked all too well.

Unless your enemies knew for a fact that this was not how you looked like.

The man in charge clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Aww, Frosty, it’s cute that you think you can hide. But you’re forgetting I _know_ who you are. Some fancy tech won’t fool me. Take off your mask… or she dies.”

He pressed the knife tighter to your mom’s skin and you would swear your heart stopped. Your hands instinctively went to prop up, so you could lunge forward; a warning _tsk_ made you change your mind effectively.

“Uh-huh. Stay where you are and. Take. Off. Your. Fucking. Mask.”

“She’s not wearing a mask! What are you talking about?” your mother cried out, tears rolling down her cheeks and you swore that moment that you would fucking gut that bastard who had done this to her.

“Oh she is. Come on. Do I need to start a countdown?” he mocked you.

“Why are you doing this?” you whispered, icy fire sneaking through your body, filling your veins with unknown feeling  as well as the room.

The walls started covering in thin ice too – you weren’t aware of doing it, it must have been a subconscious reaction of your powers to your mental state. You were losing control, but you didn’t give a fuck. You had no intention to spare this worm, the poor excuse for a human being.

“To make a show. But don’t worry, you’re gonna die too. I vowed to find a soft spot of each Avenger to detach them from the team and make them an easy target to kill… you were the easiest one really. Leaving the people you care about so much unprotected…” he teased you slyly and the unknown feeling suddenly blossomed into something much more familiar, only with yet unrecognized intensity.

Anger. _Rage_.

“You fucking bastard-“

“Ouch. You kiss your mother with that mouth?” _That fucker._ You gritted your teeth, your hands balling into tight fists against the floor. “I’m gonna slit her throat unless you reveal yourself in three…”

You were sure as hell that he wouldn’t hesitate to do as he was promising, even if it meant he wouldn’t get his big revelation – he was insane like that, no doubt.

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling your tears running down the synthetic material imitating your skin. You held out one of your hands, asking for a moment, but you didn’t expect to get any.

“…two…”

You turned off the voice disguiser first – if you were about to reveal your face, there was no point in it. Then you brought your other hand to the levelled button to deactivate the advanced tech and started stripping it only a fraction of second later after pushing at the right place. You scrambled the thin film off your face, letting it fall.

You heard the astonished gasps, the breath of your name on your parent’s lips as loud as if they were screaming and you swallowed more tears that begged for release. You couldn’t make yourself to meet anyone’s eyes.

“That’s it, pretty girl. It’s a shame to hide a face like that, ain’t it?”

You breathed in sharply when you saw the steam coming out of his mouth peripherally. The temperature dropped significantly – your doing again, another sign of the powers acting on their own. You lifted your gaze, piercing his eyes with yours with determination.

“Oh-ho, _sweet_. Never saw you change the colour of your eyes before. I guess _the winter is coming.”_

You had no fucking idea what he was talking about. Heavy snowflakes started falling down, but there was no gentleness in it – no, cold wind blew them, making them swirl around madly, making everyone in the room squint; except you. You felt something bubble inside you, something fighting its way out, crawling out and you had no need to try to shush it or push it back.

It made you feel strong. It made feel powerful enough to take these sons of bitches out.

“Whoa, now that’s new, Frosty-frost. What else you’ve got?” he mocked you with a victorious grin, his disgusting smugness in a stark contrast to your mother’s pale face.

You let go – you let go completely, allowing the burning energy to get loose. Your arms flew up in front of you intuitively as you jumped to your feet.

The sudden gust of wind threw the two remaining thugs against a wall, while your parents forms remained steady for some inexplicable reason – it was as if the energy acted instinctively again, its rage only focused on the people who had done you wrong.

The thug who had been holding your father’s head was knocked out by the blast; he slid down the icy wall as a rag doll, leaving a thin smudge on blood on its way, the ice cracked on the point of impact.

Michaels scrambled up, trying to catch his breath; behind him, the ice was broken as well. He chuckled a bit shakily, wiping blood from his fingertips to his trousers.

“Gotta admit, didn’t see that coming, Ice Queen.”

You walked to him slowly, having all the time of the world – he was barely standing and you felt the sprouts of energy at your hands that were just begging you to release them. So you did.

His body slammed against the wall once again, this time staying that way – invisible force was keeping him on place and he was stretching his neck so he could watch you approach.

“Why did you do this? _The truth,”_ you demanded flatly, taking your time when erasing the distance between you two. You passed by your parents without a word; you had a monster to deal with now.

Michaels’ eyebrow rose – the gesture looked ridiculous since he still had to keep his eyes narrowed to see anything at all as the snowflakes was blowing into his face constantly.

“Big fan of family gathe-“

Your hand shot up to grab his throat before he could finish. He gasped for air.

_“Tell. Me.”_

Despite fighting for air and his limbs pinned to the wall, he grinned. “Look who’s— showing-- their true--- colours.”

You clenched your jaw and pressed tighter – you could feel your palm burning cold, itching to give a frostbite to his fucking vocal cords. The power was dizzying. You had never felt so strong and you were thanking heavens or hell – you didn’t care whose doing that was – for being able to fight like this _now_. A solid weight of an icicle formed in your free hand unwittingly, rising to his neck.

You could see his eyes widen in shock before he composed his expression – you didn’t believe his fake bravery, you knew he was scared and it only fuelled the flame in you. You were the superior one. And this man needed a punishment.

“Frostbite— more like-- _Killer Frost,”_ he choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks as he was fighting for air. His lips were slowly turning blue; you found it more interesting than his words, because he wasn’t saying what you wanted to hear. In fact, something stung your guts at the addressing, making your twitch, that something that felt important. But it wasn’t. “Why don’t--- you show---- mommy and dad-“

The sting was sharper this time. Something twisted your insides, something you couldn’t recognize, an inner voice whispering you to stop this madness; the freaking snowstorm in the room, the wind, the ice, the icy fire on your hands. The voice was shushed by a new rush of anger as you saw the man’s cocky smile, only growing when his hazy gaze looked behind you.

“-daddy— what a mur-murderer-- you are. Not your--- your first time---- ‘fter all.”

You gripped your weapon tighter and squeezed your eyes shut as the voice in your head got louder.

_Spare him._

_NO._

_“Shut up,”_ you strained through your teeth, forcing yourself to look at him, to remember how much you hated him for what he had done and had _tried to_ do. How much he _deserved_ to die.

“ ’m sure Cap— ‘d be proud-- too.”

The mention of Steve did it.

You roared, burying the icicle in his body – it sank into his muscles as if he was made of butter, instantly covering in crimson liquid.

It was the most satisfying thing you had even done.

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter exists for like… forever :D I was kinda excited about this one. Hope you enjoyed.


	5. 4) Quite a grip

_The mention of Steve did it._

_You roared, burying the icicle in his body – it sank into his muscles as if he was made of butter, instantly covering in crimson liquid._

_It was the most satisfying thing you had even done._

Michaels screamed at the top of his lungs – the thin remains of air in him just made it pathetic – and gripped the icicle buried in his shoulder as the wind holding him still eased. You punched his face with all you got, knocking him unconscious. He dropped to the ground at instant.

You stared at the limp body at your feet, blinking your tears away. You were panting, adrenalin and the unknown energy burning in your veins, igniting every cell of your body, your rage and the desire to stab one more icicle through his fucking carotid, to finish him, tempting you. You curled your hands into fists, squeezing your eyes shut.

The voice telling you not to hurt him further was screaming now, begging. You listened. Your body was shaking and your head felt like exploding any moment with the fight of two opposing wishes – to kill and not to prove him right; your skull actually felt like splitting open any second.

But you had already proved him right, hadn’t you? You had killed the very moment you had opened your eyes for the first time after gaining your powers. And now? All the things you had done it this building, what had you caused in this room alone. You were a ticking bomb just about to explode. Just about to kill. What would anyone think when seeing what you had done? Something coiled inside you painfully, the deepest shame and the horror at your own actions.

Through all the mess, the white darkness surrounding you, a single voice broke.

“Snowflake?”

Your breath hitched and your heart must have stopped. No, no, no, what was he doing here? He couldn’t be, he _shouldn’t_ be, not now, not ever, you were _dangerous_ , to everyone, to _him-_

“Snowflake, it’s okay. It’s just me,” Steve whispered softly, a creak of his boots against the snow accompanying his words.

“Don’t come closer!” you cried out, panicked.

No, no, he couldn’t come closer, you would hurt him, you would hurt him again, maybe worse than before with all you had done just now-

He indeed stopped in his tracks, inhaling in shakily, startled by you – for once, he reacted properly. How could he have ever said he believed in you?

“Alright. Not coming any closer. Will you?” When you shook your head rapidly, he continued. “Will you at least look at me, Snowflake? Please?”

As far as you knew, you didn’t possess the ability to hurt someone with your gaze, so you gulped, slowly complying, hoping you truly wouldn’t hurt him by that; though apparently your eyes had changed colour, maybe it was just a step from killing this way too. But perhaps if you did as he asked, he would understand and leave.

When you opened your eyes, looking up at him, you had to lower your gaze immediately. The flash of fear in his eyes hurt so badly, stinging in places where your heart was hammering against your ribcage, the force of vibrations running through your body escalating. You _knew_ he had every right to be afraid of you, hell, you needed him to be afraid so he wouldn’t try anything stupid like coming to you, but the sudden lack of trust hurt nevertheless.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone remaining surprisingly even.

You peeked at his face again; the fear was gone, replaced by concern. Your throat tightened – he wasn’t worried about himself anymore, if he had ever, no, he was worried about _you._

How could a brilliant man like himself be so incredibly stupid?  

As if he was reading your thoughts, he took one step closer – you mirrored his move immediately, backing against the wall, your hand rising in attempt to keep him on place. Shockingly enough, when you looked at your hand, it wasn’t burning with bright blue flame as you expected; it must have only been your feeling. Still, the wall behind your back immediately covered in thicker ice as if the previous layer and the fucking snow on the floor weren’t enough.

“Steve-“ you warned him stiffly, meeting his eyes again.

You would swear he wanted to bit his lip, yet he didn’t, not wanting to show his distress. His expression was open otherwise though; he truly wasn’t afraid of you.

“Why don’t you want me to come closer? I promise I won’t hurt you.”

You barked out a bitter laugh. He was a dummy sometimes, wasn’t he?

“I don’t want to hurt you, _you idiot!”_ you snarled, unable to keep your voice even, but really, that was the last of your problems now.

A flash of recognition lighted up his face, before his lips curled in a tiny smile. Was he insane?

“You won’t.”

You shot him an incredulous look, cautiously throwing your hand in the air, wary of not creating any icy weapons. Could he not see everything around you? The snowing had eased, the wind falling silent, but _still._

“You were fighting, it’s understandable. But it’s over now. You don’t need to fight anymore.”

The idiot he was, he slowly lowered himself to lay down his shield, shortening the distance between you just an inch when he rose to his feet again. You noticed the change. You could see the switch in his posture too, the tension in his shoulders resolving as if there was no danger anymore.

Idiot, _idiot, IDIOT._

“Steve-“

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Snowflake,” he declared as if he was promising you, as if it was his choice. He loosened the strap on his helmet too, letting the piece of armour fall into the snow next to his shield. You gulped, tears piercing your eyes. Why couldn't he just stay in a safe distance, _protected?_ “You would never.”

“I hurt you within five minutes of meeting you!” you hissed stubbornly, wishing to merge with the wall as he took another step. _I killed within the first minute of waking up._ You swallowed the sob that was threating to escape your lips. “Steve, please _,_ _please,_ I can’t hurt you again-“

He shook his head gingerly, stripping his gloves – making it fucking even easier for you to give him a frostbite at best.

“For one, I barely felt anything then and this is different. When we first met, you were new to this. Now you’re in control of your powers, not the other way around.”

That was obviously a lie.

Yet, the buzzing in your ears was fading away. It was not enough. You knew that one wrong word, one wrong movement could mean the return of the icy monster, hell, it was still present, _you_ were still present. Your hands were shaking, weakness creeping up your spine, the feeling of power leaving your body. Instead, a dull ache settled in your lower back, as if the power curled in a ball like a kitten and was slowly falling asleep.

Except it wasn’t a kitten, but a deadly ability.

You shook your head as he moved just a little bit closer.

“Steve, _please-“_

His gentle smile widened, reassuring. He held out a hand for you as if he couldn’t fucking hear what you were saying.

“You’re safe now, Snowflake. We all are. And you’re not gonna hurt me. I trust you,” he continued lowly, knowing exactly this was how to get under your icy skin. The words. The endless trust he was treating you with, his genuine gaze locking with yours, making your heart stop. “I believe in you.”

Your knees buckled with a sob and you were falling under the weight of everything. You never hit the floor – as always, strong hands were here to catch you, lifting you up again, pulling you into a warm embrace, one arm around your waist, the other at the back of your head in your hair, pressing your face into his chest.

You sobbed again, your own suddenly weak arms hesitantly curling around Steve. He nuzzled his face in your hair in response, tightening his grip on you.

“Shh, Snowflake. I got you, _I got you._ Oh sweetheart…” he mumbled soothingly, his hands caressing your form, yet managing to keep you upright.

You crumbled the fabric of his suit between your fingers, trying to hold on as much as you could, yet felling it wasn’t nearly enough, your limbs strangely numb.

“I— I almost-” you cried out, your voice muffled by his chest, “-almost killed-- again--- he-“

Steve cradled you gently, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

“But you didn’t. You’re not a killer, Snowflake-“

“I— I k-killed be-before-“

“No, sweetheart, that wasn’t your fault. He was just trying to get to you, shh. You could have killed him, no one would blame you after what he did, but you _didn’t._ It just proves how strong and good you are.”

You felt the snow under your feet melting, the temperature in the room rising, doubtlessly your doing again, but you ignored it. You had Steve. Steve, who was a bloody idiot, but he believed in you and he thought you were good, being delusional, sure, however, you would take that any day, as long as you could.

“How can you-“ you breathed weakly, “-how can you trust someone like me? How can you lo-“

His hand moved from the back of your head to your jaw as he retreated a tiny bit, forcing you to look up at him. You felt your heart swell as his honest eyes locked with yours, so trusting, so astonished, so _loving_. How was that even possible?

“How could I not? I know you, Snowflake. Of course I trust you.” His thumb caressed your cheek and you were suddenly very grateful he had pulled off his gloves as well, his palm pleasantly warm against your skin. “I love you.”

You pressed your lips together, blinking away your tears.

“I don’t-“ you finally escaped his gaze, looking away. “I don’t deserve that, Steve, I-“

“You don’t get to choose that. And thank god for that, because you’re terribly biased.”

“Says you.”

He grinned boyishly, bright eyes shining. It felt like the sun coming out, warming every inch of your skin.

“I’m an excellent judge of character. Come on.” He kissed you forehead lightly. “I feel like I should be introduced to someone.”

You froze. Almost literally. You honest to god got so lost in Steve’s eyes and declarations that you forgot you had had an audience the whole time. _Your parents_. Your parents who now knew you were alive. Well, _fuck._ Perhaps Steve wasn’t the only one who needed to introduce himself.

You gulped loudly, very, _very_ reluctantly leaving his protective arms. Steve was watching you closely as he let go of you, ready to catch you if your knees betrayed you again. His hand was on your smaller back, silent support.

You turned around slowly, terrified of facing them. They must have been heart-broken. Angry. Disappointed. Scared. _Terrified_. What they had just seen, what they had been through…

You were utterly shocked when Steve’s hand disappeared and a fraction of second later, a body collided with yours, knocking the air out of your lungs – before you could evaluate the situation, you mother’s hoarse voice cried out your name right next to your ear. You automatically hugged her back, absolutely stunned.

“Mo- mom?”

 _“Oh, babygirl,”_ she sniffled, tightening her grip which seemed impossible. You stared blankly in front of yourself, your father’s face perfectly in your field of vision. His eyes were red-rimmed, his lips pressed tightly together and you would _swear_ his lower lip was trembling slightly.

That was _not_ what you had expected, but you could feel the warmth wrapping your heart in the softest blanket, melting into your mother’s embrace that felt as safe as Steve’s, only in a different way.

“Danielle, love, I would like you to leave a piece of her for me too,” your dad demanded impatiently and you sobbed-snorted with laughter, because that was your dad, trying to be funny in every situation, and your parents were fucking right here and the little bleeding the thug gave him already stopped. Your mom ignored him – so he sighed and wrapped his arms around both of you, organizing a group hug. There was no stopping the tears rolling down your cheeks now.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” your mother’s voice whispered and you only managed a soundless ‘ditto’, letting the amazing feeling of being loved sink in. Once again, you couldn’t believe what was happening, let alone think you even deserved that much luck.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out through the huge lump in your throat and your parents let you go, taking a tiny step backwards, wearing matching heart-breaking expressions. Here came the rejection, finally. “I’m so sorry this happened, that he took you and hurt you, and— and that you had to see me like this, I-“

Your dad’s hands grabbed your shoulders firmly, his serious eyes piercing through yours.

“Unless you put him up to this, it’s not your fault.” You opened your mouth, only to be stopped. “Uh-huh, I’m talking, young lady. I definitely need to know what happened to you and how, but I’m just glad you’re here now. As for what we saw… I couldn’t be more proud of what kind of a strong woman my little girl became.”

“Dad-“ you breathed out, all words dying in your throat. What could you even say to that?

“Now, I believe you wanted to introduce us to someone?” he asked, his tone almost teasing as he looked behind your shoulder significantly.

That moment, you knew you were okay, just like everyone else in the room – because _of course_ you had to fucking blush, especially when you remembered what your parents had witnessed.

You cleared your throat awkwardly as your mom eyed Steve as well. _Oh god, someone stop the emotional roller-coaster right now._

“Uhm… mom, dad… this… this is Steve, my-“ Boyfriend? It would make it sound so much as a high-school crush, so underrating what you had. Yet, you were barely searching for a better word. “-my colleague-“ Your dad raised his eyebrow doubtfully. “-and partner.”

‘Partner’ was good, right? It was painfully clear that you meant the romantic kind.

“Steve, these are my parents. Danielle and Lucas.”

Steve stepped forward, standing by your side now, extending his hand towards your mom first.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ma’am,” he exclaimed confidently, but you could tell a bit of nervousness was soaking through his features.

Steve Rogers was _nervous_ when meeting your parents and it was gold. As if he wasn’t the amazing man he was, but instead as if he was just Steve Rogers from the past pre-serum days – which would still be amazing –, but mainly as if he was a rogue and not a national hero.

It was incredibly sweet and absolutely unjustified, because your mother was staring at him, star-struck, accepting his hand on autopilot.

Steve moved onto your dad. “Pleasure to meet you, Sir.”

“Some grip you have here, Steve,” you father pronounced and you supressed a whine, wishing for the floor to swallow you before you could die of embarrassment. He did _not_ just say that to Captain America, right? “What are your intentions towards my daughter?”

 _“Dad!”_ “Lucas!”

Did Steve blush as they let go? “I plan on loving her as long as she’ll have me and protecting her at least a bit longer, sir.”

You positively stopped breathing at his words, snapping your head to him in shock. You might have stopped breathing – but your heart was fighting its way out of your chest, your head spinning, indescribable warmth tingling in every cell of your body.

_Oh Steve._

“Good answer, son. Good answer.” Your father smiled, patting his arm. Steve reluctantly smiled back and you couldn’t stop staring, your heart definitely melting.

Steve caught your gaze and his smile softened, his hand finding yours.

With the corner of your eye, you registered a shadow of a movement in the doorway and you acted purely on instinct. With Steve unprotected, you pulled his hand to move him behind you, your free hand sending an icicle towards the intruder.

Several things happened at once; Steve stumbled, barely, but he did as he was caught off guard, you felt a sharp pang at the base of your spine and your weapon was smashed to thousand pieces by a burst of energy from Iron Man’s repulsors.

“Jeez, Elsa, cool it!” he cried out, his voice mechanical as ever was in his suit. You inhaled sharply, irritated and relieved at the same time, the unexpected pain easing. “Actually, no, don’t _cool_ it. Don’t get your panties in twist or something…”

“Goddammit, Tony!” Steve swore at him loudly.

“Language, Cap.”

“Shut up, Stark. You mind taking care of this— _man_ here?” you pointed out the so far unconscious bastard and Tony obediently flew to him, cuffing him.

“That’s— that’s-…?” you father stuttered and you actually allowed yourself smile, highly amused at your star-struck (more like Stark-struck) dad.

“Tony Stark. Yes. Iron Man.”

“Friend of yours?” your mom chipped and you just nodded in affirmative.

“Well… sort of.”

“Ouch! I thought we were friends, Elsa!” Tony complained, pretending to be wounded.

“We are, when you’re not calling me Elsa, _Metal Man.”_

“Iron Man, it’s _Iron-“_

“Yeah, let’s go. Stark, squad on the way?”

“Absolutely, Capsicle. You can have you family gathering in peace. Except you’re flying back with all of us. You know the drill.”

“Of course,” Steve mumbled, massaging the bridge of his nose, slowly making his way by your side. He leaned to your ear. “Do _not_ try to pull me behind you ever again.”

 _“You were unarmed,”_ you hissed back.

_“Doesn’t matter! Just… don’t do that.”_

He picked up his stuff he had so effectively dropped to snap you from your _whatever_ , placing his shield on the lock on his back, strapping his helmet to a buckle on the right side of his belt. You all made your way out, Tony carrying some extra load in a form of a criminal you had stabbed and knocked out.

_“I love you, Steve. And I will as long as you’ll have me. Which means I **will** protect you as well.” _

He sighed, dropping a soft kiss on your temple as his arm wrapped around your waist to subtly support your weight. You automatically leaned onto him, resting your head on his shoulder for few steps.

 _“You’re still terrible at taking orders **and** filling my requests,” _ he mumbled quietly as if he was complaining, but you heard the fondness in his voice, the affection. He was moved by what you said, despite only quoting him.

You couldn’t help but snort as his words, trying to push down the irritation at his hypocrisy.

_“Someone’s a hypocrite. A stubborn one on top of that. I told you **not** to come closer.”_

_“I’m glad I did.”_ You could see his content smile from the corner of your eye. _“I knew I was right. When you’re right it’s not a matter of stubbornness, but a matter of principles.”_

_“Everyone always thinks they are right, Captain Witty Comeback!”_

Steve shrugged, pecking your temple again. _“Good thing I **was** right then. And even if I wasn’t…”_ his voice trailed off and you looked up at his face, finding him watching you sincerely. _“…you would be worth the risk.”_

Steve’s words pulled the rug from under your feet perfectly. You had no response to that. Other than placing your hand of his chest and stopping in your tracks. He complied instantly, his eyes turning curious for a split second.

You got on your toes, kissing him on his lips. You could feel him smiling against your lips, but his free hand found your jaw, his fingers caressing your skin and your hair, so he must have been more than happy with the development. His arm pulled you closer, making you step on his feet. You pressed your body flushed to his more than willingly, your lips dancing in sync, your breath his and his breath yours. You poured all the love into the kiss, letting him taste the gratitude for him not giving up on you even if you literally asked him to do so. His heart was racing under your palm, but the impressive tempo wasn’t even close to yours.

“PDA, kids. Come on. We talked about PDA,” Tony’s mechanical voice hummed and you tensed against the pleasantly warm body of your _partner._ Tony was somewhat used to walking on you, always teasing you about it for at least a week, but your parents…

You climbed down from Steve, smiling at him shyly and he shortly met your lips once more as if he couldn’t help himself. You giggled and ignored the rush of blood into your cheeks when you met and escaped your mother’s gaze.

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean I started writing shorter chapters? Why would I do that? :D


	6. 5) A long way from where we began

“Steve?” your mother addressed him gently when she noticed his absent gaze.

She was _good_. You knew that – she was amazing at reading micro-expressions, even with people she didn’t know well. It came with her job, being sensitive to other people’s emotions, let alone make sense of kids’ complicated world. But damn. With Steve, you should have noticed that. And you probably would, but you were a bit… preoccupied.

Your parents meeting your whole team, but mainly _the talk_ about everything that had happened since they learned you had died in the lab incident… it was too much to process even for you, just saying it out loud, admitting what you had done, what kind of a person you had become.

Of course, you had told them the good and great things too – about Tony and Bruce figuring out a way how to end the escalated side effect on your body caused by the treatment. About Clint, Natasha and mainly Steve being there for you. Steve _as a very close friend,_ which you hadn’t failed to specify, explaining that the different kind of relationship had come later.

And Steve had been there by your side during you narration as a moral support – he had offered to leave you and your parents some privacy (or at least as much as it was possible on the jet), but you had gripped his hand so tight that even the supersoldier had winced. He had stayed then, being your voice when the lump in your throat had grown too big or when you had got overwhelmed by your emotions.

Long story short: it had been a sobfest, but your parents had taken the news surprisingly well, considering. It had earned you a lot more hugs actually.

When you had moved to rather lighter topics – since your parents weren’t exactly talkative about their own life after you – Tony had approached you and stole your dad for a bit, because _of course_ he had noticed the painfully obvious crush you farther had on him. You were glad there was at least something good coming out of this mess.

Anyway, all of that had had you distracted and you hadn’t noticed Steve’s mental absence.

“Yes, ma’am?” he replied immediately, his eyes focusing on her properly. Then he shifted in his position inconspicuously, realizing his mistake. You could tell he was calling himself an idiot in his head, even when it was nothing serious. “I mean… yes, Danielle?”

Your mother smiled mildly. “I understand it can take a while to get used to.”

“That’s no excuse.”

You rolled your eyes, squeezing his hand. It wasn’t as if he just disobeyed a direct order from Fury or something. Which you knew as well as he did was something he wasn’t opposed to.

“It is. But to what I wanted to say, Steve… he likes you, you know. Lucas.” Both yours and Steve’s eyes flickered to your father who was still talking to Tony – well, more like listening to him talk and hanging on his lips eagerly. “Just because he’s with Mr. Stark… it doesn’t mean he likes him better.”

Steve’s cheeks went honestly a bit pink and you were punched by a fist of shame to your gut. How had you not noticed that? That Steve was bothered by it? That he was self-conscious? Did he think he could not compare himself to Tony, at least not when it came to your father’s sympathies?

You fought the urge to just cuddle the poor captain and slap yourself for your ignorance later.

Your mother looked at you pointedly. ‘Explain,’  she asked you wordlessly. You cleared your throat.

“Yeah. There’s no denying that dad has a crush of the size of the Avengers Tower on Tony, okay? He admires him greatly. But… you have so many traits he admires and appreciates, even when barely knowing you. And…” You made a pause, staring into Steve’s eyes intently, making sure he understood. “And he can see easily that I love you. That you make me happy, that you care for me, that you’re keeping me safe… and you would take stupid risks to keep it that way. If this was a contest for guys and I was the prize – you would totally be winning it.”

His lips twitched at the last note, but he made a disapproving face. “You’re not some kind of a _prize_.”

You smiled at him brightly. “ ’Course not. But that’s not the point, Steve.”

He lowered his gaze, seemingly ashamed.

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to-“

You silenced him by a soft peck on his lips and he rested his forehead against yours with a sigh. You were a bit surprised by the affection he was showing in front of your parents – perhaps he sensed how much you needed him close and that was his priority.

“I’m sorry.”

You kissed him again, this time a little longer. “No harm done. I love you. So my family loves you.”

Your words were only confirmed when you retrieved and Steve reluctantly looked at your mom, probably a bit bashful about the ‘PDA’ after all. It was a baseless worry; your mother was watching you with her eyes full of delighted sparks, seemingly more than content by your interactions. It wasn’t too hard to figure out why – you hadn’t been exactly lucky during the years, let alone lucky when it came to love.

And now… _Steve_. Steve had happened and it was everything. You were so happy with him it was sometimes too hard to believe it was the truth. So naturally, your mom adored him.

“Uhm… sorry to interrupt, I just… I thought you might like to know that we’re going to have a visit at the Tower,” Tony announced as he walked to your little group side by side with your father.

You narrowed your eyes at him, just like Steve. Your mom just looked at him with a curious smile.

“What kind of a visit exactly?” you asked suspiciously, already guessing the answer.

He wouldn’t say, but the grimace he made told you enough. It was a mixture of annoyance and respect. There weren’t many people Tony would show respect, at least a little.

The big guy was coming.

Fury.

\---

It certainly wasn’t the first time you had met Fury – he had been spending rather impressive amount of time visiting you when you had first come to the training centre, before Steve as your supervisor had decided you had been a very low-level threat and you should be moved to the Tower – but the figure got no less intimidating since then.

You knew the man was on the side of the angels, but you were also well-aware he was not one of them. And this was the first time you were about to face him alone.

Steve left the conference  room with his jaw clenched so tight you thought his muscles might actually tear, but you nodded at him reassuringly, even when you were totally freaking out on the inside.

“So. How you’re holding up?” the familiar gruff voice asked and you spun to him, surprised. You blinked, processing what he had just said. Did he…?

“Uhm.” You totally didn’t see _that_ coming. You had no answer. “Good. I mean… we are all alive.”

Fury looked out of the window, his hands connected behind his back. He seemed very captured by the view of midday Manhattan, but you knew better than that. He nodded.

“That’s understandable.”

You shrugged, instinctively curling your arms around your torso. Now you got past the polite question you hadn’t expected and the true reason of his visit would come. You might as well get away with it.

“Why did you want to see me, sir?” you whispered and his serious gaze immediately met yours.

Your heart stopped. You were never getting over the fact he only had one functioning eye – on anyone else, the tape would look ridiculous, but at him… it was just intimidating.

He eased the grip behind his back. “Straight to business. Good.”

You gulped. Maybe you could go back to the polite small talk?

“In fact, I was expecting you to reach out, so I did it before you.”

Your lips parted. What? Why would… why would you reach out to-

“About your parents, Agent Anderson. The fact someone had figured out your identity. I was expecting you to ask S.H.I.E.L.D. to keep them safe,” he explained simply and your chest felt suddenly too tight, your ribcage too small for your lungs and heart to fit in.

You had definitely not been thinking that much ahead. You had been just glad you managed to save your parents and capture Michaels and his goons. You weren’t thinking about the next steps, too caught up in the past.

“I’ll make it easy. There are only two options. Either they go underground alone, or you are allowed to come with them.”

Something stung in your eyes without warning at that kind of talk. You had heard it before – but not directed to you, always to the people you had saved. Sure, there was a certain level of secrecy around your own persona and the rest of the world, but this… this was something completely different.

“You mean— you mean witness protection, right?” you choked out when you realized you were quiet for too long. “Not a safe-house with zero contact with the rest of the world? Because they can’t-“

“We can arrange both. I understand you don’t want to cut them or yourself from the world completely. But given the leak we’re investigating, there wouldn’t be a single record of where you or they would go.”

You stared at him, millions of thoughts running through your head, all the pros and cons. How fast did you have to decide? Today was just _so long_ and you were too fucking tired for this.

All the buzz in your head curled around one simple thought though – around one terrifying idea. Then came the rest, which was scaring you only a little less.

“When you say underground, no record… you mean zero contact with the team,” you breathed out with difficulty as if something was suffocating you. And it _was_. The horrible idea of—of- “If I come with them, it’s not just about retirement. I would be cutting off myself of from the team.”

From the Avengers.

From Steve.

If you were coming with your parents, it meant losing all of the amazing people you had grown so fond of in the past months with the prospect of never seeing them again – or hearing or anything. Cutting all the ties.

It made you want to throw up.

Fury didn’t even nodded this time and you knew it was painfully clear that your picture of the future was very precise. The other option you hated as much as the first one and it was just as clear.

Yet, he spelled it out for you and you wanted all but to hear the words.

“If you choose not to come with them… you’ll never make contact with them either. You won’t even know where they would go to make sure of it.”

\---

You were never more grateful for Tony’s desire to show off his baby – the Tower. He had taken your parents for a stroll and showed them their room, promising you would talk to them later.

Which allowed you to basically storm off the conference room right into Steve’s arms. He wrapped them around you automatically, yet gently as ever.

Before you knew it, he raised you from the ground and carried you bridal style to your room. You didn’t even know when the words started spilling from your mouth, as painful as unstoppable. You told him everything and in such speed you admired him for catching it all.

Now you were sitting on the couch glued to each other’s side, your knees bended over his lap, his hand caressing your knee and shin.

“I’m sorry. This… this isn’t fair to you,” he whispered, his hand squeezing your knee comfortingly. His eyes were watching you with honest grief and you couldn’t bear it. With a heavy feeling in your stomach, you looked away.

“It’s not, but he’s right. There’s no other option. Either way, they need to lay low. The only question is whether I’ll be with them, quitting this, cutting all the ties with the team and hope for the best, or cutting ties with them, keeping them safe that way. It’s… I _have_ to choose one of those.”

“It’s not a choice you should ever be forced to make.”

You chuckled humourlessly, covering his hand with yours. He immediately turned it palm up so he could hide yours; it always brought a smile on your face, the contrast. You were no elf, but your hand looked tiny in his anyway.

“You should have never be forced to make a choice of crushing into the icy ocean or not. But you were and now I am. It’s… I’ve already decided, it’s just… it hurts.”

It was the truth. The choice was obvious, in a way. But it didn’t mean you liked it. More like the opposite.

Steve tilted his head, his gaze roaming your face. You could see the hint of fear and anxiety in his features – he didn’t want to let you go. He was afraid you would leave him. Yet… he was being strong for you. It made your heart ache even more.

“You know no one will judge you if you choose to come with them. I wouldn’t. I lost my parents and there was no stopping it. But you can be with yours if you want to and there is no shame in wanting that. You don’t owe anything anyone here. Not to Fury, not to the team, not… not to me.”

You huffed, turning your gaze to the ceiling. You sometimes wished you could see the world as clearly as he Steve did. The right, the wrong. More than that though, you might wish for him to be angry with you, not to be so kind all the time. To tell you what you were supposed to do.

Because choosing was hard. When you didn’t have the control of things, it was difficult and cruel, but you had to deal with it. Choosing and hoping the path you walked was right… that felt worse.

“Of course I do, Steve. And so I do to my parents, but this is not about owing, it’s about doing the right thing and about what’s best for them. I… Steve, I shouldn’t be here.” The fear became more distinctive for a fraction of second before Steve regained his composure and returned to the understanding boyfriend mode. You felt the need to explain. “I mean… not in the Tower, I mean _here_ in general. The kidnapping, it never would have happened if I died as I was supposed to-“

His face hardened, his glare piercing your eyes with deadly seriousness.

“Don’t even say a thing like that. _Ever. Jesus,_ Snowflake…”

“I’m not saying I’m not happy I’m alive, Steve. But those are the facts – I should have died. Instead, I killed three people in a split second with my uncontrollable powers and caused my parents a trauma. They are better off without me. All of you are way more equipped to deal with my shit. And I need to do something for this fucked up world,” you stated the obvious and took a deep breath to slow down.

The levee broke and the words were flooding out without your control once more. You needed to calm down a little dammit.

“You, Steve, you and this team gave me life when I wished I rather died. I owe you _everything_. I got a chance to do something good and I’m not going to waste it, not for my childish want to be with people I’ll only end up poisoning. All the people should keep their distance from me, you should probably too, but I guess that’s your choice. I’m staying here if you guys will have me.”

It hurt to tell him he should stay away and you didn’t want to do it. But seeing your parents hurt because of you… you hated the idea of you being a reason for Steve getting hurt too. The only difference was that Steve was in danger 24/7 so to speak and he could take care of himself pretty well; unlike with your parents, you could afford to leave the choice of spending or not spending his time with you to him. 

Steve pressed his lips together, the corners of his mouth turning down. His eyes softened and still locked with yours, he brought his hands up to cup your face tenderly.

“It was not your fault the scientists died.”

Of all things he could have said anything about, he chose _this_. It only made the lump in your throat grow when he didn’t comment on you staying here rather than coming with your parents. You blinked away the tears that gathered in your eyes for the millionth time in past 24 hours.

“It was. And even without that being my intention – they are still dead. Three people died to make me this and people I care about got hurt, including you. I… I need to let my parents go.”

Your face still in his palms, still staring at the bottom of your soul, his irises glowed with compassion and a new emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I love you,” he spoke softly, his voice thick with the very same emotion you couldn’t decode. You covered you mouth to muffle the embarrassingly loud sob that somehow escaped your lips.

Steve sighed, not annoyed, and with mumbled _‘oh Snowflake’_ brought your face to his to drop a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“I love you,” he repeated, whispering. “No matter what.”

\---

The goodbye that had come too soon – only a day later – took a number on you. You were exhausted, emotionally drained and a barely walking mess of an insomniac. You had been grateful to Fury who had taken off about an hour ago together with your sobbing parents (who had not forgot to emphasize to Steve to take care of you at least three times) for the super-secret hideout, but… even when the situation was pretty much the same as before with you having a zero contact with them… doing it over again broke your heart.

And since you weren’t getting any sleep, you headed downstairs, where the rest of the team had been trying to squeeze information out of Michaels.

Key word: trying.

He had been refusing to give anything to anyone – not even to Natasha and she knew her way around, okay?

You ignored Steve’s disapproving gaze as you joined his side; him, Tony and Clint were watching Natasha and Michaels in the interrogation room from behind a one way mirror. Needless to say it  was a sad picture.

“He’s not giving you anything,” you stated and Steve sighed, giving Tony a knowing look. You didn’t understand what it meant. "What?”

“He insists on talking to you – you and you only,” Clint explained and Steve shot him a murderous glare. You raised your eyebrows.

Well. You weren’t exactly thrilled about the prospect of interacting the scumbag again, but you sure had enough rage in you to keep your eyes open and your ears pricked to his bullshit. Now this was Steve being overprotective, for which you loved him endlessly, but it didn’t change the facts.

“Okay. I’ll do-“

“Ehh- “ “Absolutely not-” “Not sure that’s a good idea-“

“Hey! I can interrogate a person!” you objected to their protests, a bit wounded. You could!

Steve smiled at you gently, trying to keep the concern out of your sight – ha, in his dreams. “No one doubts your capabilities, Snowflake.“

“But the old man doesn’t think we should give this nutjob what he wants, so…”

You threw your hands in the air, already feeling the determination flooding your veins with adrenalin. Oh, you _could_ squeeze him and he would be _very sorry_ for requesting your presence.

You sprang in the direction of the door, hitting the buzzer.

“Hey!” “I really don’t think that’s a good idea-“

You entered the interrogation room, Michaels’ eyes immediately snapping your direction. He smiled widely.

“Hello, my sweetest Ice Queen. What took you so long?”

“None of your business. I’m here now. _Talk,”_ you growled and that cocky bastard just raised his eyebrows in challenge.

“What I’m about to tell you is not for the little lady spy’s ears over here,” he exclaimed confidently.

Natasha’s hand slammed the table right in front on him. That fucker didn’t even flinch, only eyed her, apparently annoyed.

“You’re gonna talk. Right. Now,” the Russian announced, earning a head tilt from him.

You studied him for a second. He was obviously trying to push all of your buttons for fun and he seemed pretty dedicated to his thing. The others had been interrogating him for fucking hours with no result. There really was no choice to make.

“Nat, leave us alone.”

Natasha turned to you with an incredulous look. You could tell she was only acting though. A little act for him to believe he was gaining the upper hand. Damn, she was so sneaky.

“Yeah, _Nat_ , leave us alone. Also, turn off the mikes, would you? I don’t share secrets easily, I have trust iss-“

His speech was cut off by Natasha’s fist. You would never admit it, but it kinda made you jump. Sneaky and scary as hell.

“I’m leaving, but the mikes stay on.”

You shook your head at her, adjusting to her play. Be submissive.

“No. Do as he says.” _I’ll tell you later_ , you added wordlessly as she met your gaze. She nodded with pretended reluctance.

“People behind the glass won’t be too happy about that,” she warned you silently as she passed you.

You gulped. When she said ‘people’, you knew she meant one man in particular. But how you loved her for complying with your wish and the acting, for knowing as well as you did that this was the easiest way.

“Well-aware,” you mumbled and she knocked on the door, exiting the room when it opened. You thought you heard Steve’s protests, but they fell silent as the door clicked shut.

“You’re quite a sight to my sore eyes.”

“Cut the shit, Michaels. Start talking.”

One corner of his lips rose higher. “You might not like what you’ll hear.”

You leaned onto the table with your palms, showing him you were comfortable enough and that you had time. “I’ll take the risk. Let’s start.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this is me avoiding not one, but _two_ emotionally heavy talks with the parents. It just wasn’t working out the way I wanted it to. 
> 
> Once again, the ending and what follows exist for like weeks. Which means the next chapter will come relatively fast ;)
> 
> Also, who caught a BBC Sherlock reference? 
> 
> (People, talk to me, please, if you read. Even if it’s just a random set of letters created when your head hit the keyboard after you finally finished the chapter. Thank you :-* )


	7. 6) When tomorrow comes

_When tomorrow comes_  
_I'll be on my own_  
_Feeling frightened of_  
_The things that I don't know_  
_When tomorrow comes_

_(Flashlight)_

 

You sat at your computer, the words swimming in front of your eyes. It had been almost three hours since you had left the interrogation room, but your hands were still shaking slightly.

Michaels had been right; you didn’t like what you had heard. At all. You had left the interrogation room in hurry, tears piercing your eyes and you had been sure that if Steve hadn’t been so worried about you as you had unsurely made your way through to leave the scary space, he would have broken some bones to the guy.

Michaels’ words were replaying in your head even now as you were writing the report.

“I… I can’t talk about it right now, Steve,” you had whispered as he had held you in his tight embrace, embrace that suddenly felt so, so wrong, him offering you comfort and protection. “I’ll… I’ll just write a report, okay? Let— let me…”

It felt like ages ago. You had come to several conclusions since that moment and you hated most of them. But the measures you were about to take when having the one piece of information the others didn’t were necessary. You wrote that down too and stared at the words dully. You always were terrible with words – how were you supposed to be good with them _now?_

You saved the document and attached it to an e-mail, setting it to be sent at 6 a.m. You breathed in shakily, blinking away your tears. You could do this. You _had to_ do this.

You sneaked into yours and Steve’s room, finding him spread casually on the bed with a book. He glanced up with a hesitant smile – the caring look in his eyes stung you and you lowered your gaze quickly, which was when you noticed he was holding the book upside down.

You couldn’t help it – you chuckled, your palm covering your mouth, tears almost sprouting from your eyes. God, you were such an emotional wreck if Steve pretending to read to give you space moved you to tears.

“What is it?”

“You’re holding the book wrong way up, Steve,” you noted kindly, seriously feeling like crying. He was trying to act so casual, to give you all you needed, pretending he hadn’t been pacing the whole time you had been writing the report. It made your heart ache. 

Steve quickly checked, groaning silently as he realised you were right. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I was… you don’t have to tell me. Especially if it’s not something pending. I wanted to… I didn’t want you to think I’ve been pacing here or something, waiting for the minute you come back to interrogate you,” he babbled adorably and you walked to him slowly, gently taking the book from his hands. His cheeks were flushed as if he realized his mistake all over again.

“Thank you,” you whispered, sitting down on the mattress. He straightened so you would be on the same level. His eyes examined you softly with curiosity held back. He mainly worried about _you_ now. “I’m… not ready to talk about it yet. It’s not pending, I promise.”

He gave a barely noticeable nod, his gaze never leaving your face. It made you feel so loved and cared for— it was so fucking unfair.

“What do we do now?”

“I take a shower and go to bed with you?” you offered shyly and Steve bit his lip, pained smile curling them up. He brought his warm palm to your cheek gingerly. You leaned into the gentle touch despite your better judgement, indulging the sensation.

“Of course. What can I do?”

You returned the unsure smile. “Be.”

Your hair was dripping water as you stepped out of the bathroom, finding Steve by the drawer, your fluffiest socks in his hands; they were meant for rainy days and he knew that today you felt like it was pouring. The new rush of affection almost crushed you. Steve was the best man you had ever known. He was the kind of person who had to be protected at any cost and it sure wasn’t just for his amazing ass.

You smiled at him gratefully, approaching him and taking the socks from his hands.

“I thought that you’d like these-“

You let the item fall to the floor in favour to frame his face with your palms and connected your lips in a needy kiss. He drew in a sharp breath, his hands finding your hips on instinct, but his lips were barely responding.

You frowned, retreating a little. “Steve?”

“I…” he observed your face, scanning it for any hint of what had brought this on, but he seemed perfectly clueless. He was searching for answers you weren’t willing to give him just yet. “Are you sure you want to-“

You looked into his eyes, pleading, repressing the feeling of shame at your actions. “Yes. I need you, Steve. As close as possible. _Please.”_

His brows furrowed with concern, his eyes gleaming with something sad and genuinely loving at the same time. His fingers traced your cheek with the lightest touch, making your eyes fall shut at the tenderness. Then his lips found yours with the same sentiment, touching you as carefully as if you would break if he pressed even a little stronger.

“You never have to ask for me, Snowflake. You never have to beg,” he whispered to your lips, his breath tickling and caressing yours.

His tone was strange in a way you had never heard before. It wasn’t pity, no, it was… something similar, but nothing that would make you angry – he wasn’t simply pitying you. You were feeling terrible, because you could see how your state was hurting him, but you allowed yourself to be selfish. You felt like a whore, but you didn’t care either.

“I’m here. Always. However you need me,” he continued his declarations, catching the tear that fought its way out with his thumb. _“Always._ Love you.”

You sunk your lips into his deeper, indulging the feeling of his arm wrapping around waist to pull you closer and you lived for every second of the tender love-making that followed. You didn’t hold back your tears anymore. You allowed them to fall, letting him to drink them in, drowning in the declarations whispered to your ear and written into your skin by his lips. Steve was a generous lover most of the time, but you never felt as adored as that night.

It was as if he knew what you had written into that stupid report and he was begging you to stay. The thought brought fresh tears into your eyes and you let them roll down your face while you plunged back into the most beautiful sensation of being loved. 

\---

Still more than half asleep, Steve quickly reached for his phone to dismiss the alarm set on six a.m. so he wouldn’t disturb your so desperately needed rest – only to realize that the bed beside him was cold and empty. He sighed and ran his hand down his face tiredly.

He had specifically told you to wake him up if you couldn’t sleep, offering you to do whatever you would want from a late night training session to watching a movie or just lying with or without talking. Clearly, you hadn’t listened and sneaked out from his embrace without him noticing it – which meant it had to be when he had been in the deepest sleep, around two a.m.

You probably hadn’t slept at all.

Something clenched his heart painfully. Whatever Michaels had told you, it completely messed you up. You wouldn’t talk to Steve about it, promising to do it later, and you had only wrote down a report, claiming it was easier to write it down first and make your head straight. When you had reached out to him, so vulnerable, basically begging him to make you feel loved, he had been sure his heart had broken a little.

He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts, pushing himself up to make himself useful and find you. You weren’t in the bathroom, neither in the common room or the kitchen.

“JARVIS? Is Agent Anderson in the gym?” he called out silently, his mind racing.

Where else would you be? Were you with Natasha? Did you go to her and make her your confidant rather than him? He shushed the tiny voice of jealousy at the idea.

“No, she isn’t, Captain Rogers.”

“With Romanov?”

“Neither, Captain Rogers.”

That surprised him. Sure, the Tower was huge, but there weren’t many placed you would go. The roof, perhaps? There was always the possibility of you searching shelter in your old room, but Steve found that unlikely – yet, his next tracks led there. You never spent your time in your room anymore – even when Steve went on a mission without you, you would sleep in his (and _yours_ now) bed, claiming it helped you to fall asleep.

He knocked on your door hesitantly, surprised when it opened for a slit with that action. Something cold crept up his spine, his instinct screaming at him something was terribly wrong.

“Snowflake?” he called out lowly, preparing himself for a fight if needed. It was highly unlikely someone had broken into the Tower, but stranger things had happened than someone tricking Tony’s security system.

He opened the door fully and the view had knocked the breath out of his lungs. He could have never prepared himself for the sight.

Your wardrobe was wide open, the already lean piles of your clothing left in your room thinning. The drawers were pulled out, a sock or two handing from them as if you had wanted to grab them, but then had changed your mind and carelessly had thrown them back in the last moment. The door to the bathroom was open, but the light was off. Your bed was neatly made, apparently not used in forever.

Steve stood frozen in the doorway, unable to move – or to breathe in.

Had you… had you left somewhere? Without leaving a note? Without telling anyone-

“JARVIS?! Where in Agent Anderson?!” he yelled at the ceiling as if the higher volume would make the AI pay more attention.

“Not it the Tower, Captain Rogers.”

“That is NOT an answer!”

He ran back to his quarters, grabbing his phone to check if he had missed a text or a voicemail. Nothing. His insides twisted with genuine fear.

Where the hell were you?

He dialled your number. It went straight to voice mail.

“Shit!” he cursed, throwing the phone on the bed, deciding to interrogate the AI instead. “JARVIS, when did she leave?”

“Agent Anderson left around four a.m.”

Fucking _four a.m_. You left in the middle of the night as if you were an alley cat, a burglar. As if you were a vill— the air was knocked out of his chest for the second time that morning. _A villain._

There was no way your departure wasn’t connected to the yesterday’s interrogation; with whatever information you had got out of Michaels yesterday, something that had thrown you off balance so badly.

“Did she say _where_ she’s going or _when_ she would be back?” Steve demanded sharply as he was already making his way down to the interrogation room.

_Please, tell me you didn’t do anything stupid like let him go under the false pretence of keeping someone safe, please, tell me you weren’t that naïve to trust that spineless reptile._

Steve believed you were smarter than that, but he knew how easily and how strongly emotions could cloud judgement.

“She didn’t, Captain Rogers,” JARVIS replied dutifully.

The ride in the elevator lasted eternity and since Steve was too far from Michaels right now, he decided to take out his frustration on the AI.

“And you didn’t consider her leaving a bit strange?”

“I did, sir. She asked me to deliver you an e-mail at 6:30 a.m.”

“She did WHAT?!” he snapped, wishing he could punch the insane British voice pumping through the walls of the Tower. “And you didn’t think it was a good idea to tell me earlier?! Never mind, I’ll deal with Michaels first…”

Steve stormed into the cell with a loud bang, not bothering with using the handle – he just crashed into the door with enough force to rip it away from hinges. The loud crash made their prisoner jerk awake.

“The fuck…?” Michaels complained, squinting at the man who disturbed him.

He didn’t get an answer – Steve’s fist collided with his face in one swift movement, sending the man flying off the bed. He rolled over on the floor, disoriented.

“What did you do?!” Steve barked, raising the man by his collar and pressing him onto a wall, stone hard expression on his face. He roamed Michaels figure suspiciously, looking for any hint of what the bastard had told you to drive you away. “What the fuck did you do?!”

Michaels finally woke up fully, staring into Steve’s face. Blood trickled from his nose as it had met with Steve’s knuckles, but he didn’t seem bothered by it at all despite the red liquid running into his mouth. His lips slowly spread in a bloody toothy smile.

“What did _she_ do?” he asked pointedly, his grin growing smug at the lightning of rage shooting from Steve’s eyes. He could see the despair in them too and it was the most satisfying thing he had ever seen.

Steve grabbed him tighter and crashed his body against the wall one more time.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Steve strained through his teeth, his free hand balled into fist, ready to strike again.

Recognition flickered through Michaels’ face. He laughed. He laughed fully with his head thrown back as if Steve had just told him the funniest joke he heard in years.

“Oh, this is priceless,” he choked out before he broke into laughter once more. “That’s just golden.”

“WHAT DID YOU TELL HER?!”

“She left, didn’t she?” Michaels chuckled, enjoying the euphoria of victory in his veins as a shot of ecstasy. “She really left.”

“WHERE IS SHE?!” Steve thundered, ignoring the voices and steps he could hear approaching the cell rapidly. He didn’t give a shit. This man knew something. He had told you something he had been sure would make you leave to god knew where.

Steve was glaring at him murderously, his body noticeably shaking with rage. That bastard was even _laughing_ at him.

“Sorry, pal. No idea.”

Steve led with a punch to Michaels’ gut this time, making the man huff and curl up a little – as much as he could curl up when in the air anyway.

“Rogers! What the hell is going on?” Natasha erupted behind him, her arrival barely fazing the captain.

“Oh, he wants to know where his girl-toy left to. But I have no clue.”

“LIAR! What did you tell her?!”

“You know, maybe she just got fed up with fucking a guy who could be her grandpa-“

Steve cut him off by punching his face again and a look that would leave him lying on the floor in a puddle of blood if possible. This man had done something to chase you away and no doubt had sent you towards a certain death, Steve was sure of it, and he fucking needed to know _what, how, when_ and _why._

And he really needed to smash this man’s skull, but he couldn’t always have what he needed and wanted.

“Steve! What-“ Natasha interjected, yet didn’t make a move to stop him, examining Michaels as well.

“You should have seen her face when I told her the tale.”

 _“What tale?”_ Steve growled to his face, wishing to just rip his carotid off with his teeth. He couldn’t tell the difference between fear and anger anymore, the mess of emotions fighting in him and constantly blending from one to another.

“That I took her parents to draw her out,” he explained simply through his bloody smile. Steve was not following – that was nothing new. “I’ve told her earlier I would isolate every single one of you to beat you, thanks to your biggest weakness. I asked her to guess who figured out who _you_ have a soft spot for.”

Steve slammed the body against the wall again, unable to form a word instead of just a random medley of angry syllables.

Steve himself. Whatever you were doing, you believed you were doing it to protect _him._ Why did he even find it surprising?

At least you got the fact you were his weakness (and strength) right.

“She ran away,” Natasha figured, “but that doesn’t make sense. She must have known you would follow, which would be you doing exactly what he wants.”

Steve’s mind was racing. You… knew that, right? You must have known he would follow— was that what the e-mail JARVIS had mentioned was about? Did you really think some message, probably asking him not to look for you, would stop him from going after you?

“What else did you tell her?” the redhead demanded, speaking to Michaels now since Steve was too stunned to say a word.

“I might have mentioned that I wasn’t truly honest with her before. That we only want to isolate one particular person to replicate the serum.”

Steve’s fist itched as he desired to punch the man again, except if he would, Michaels would probably lose consciousness – and for now, they needed him talking.

So you thought that… _what_ did you think again?

“She’s your biggest weakness. So she removed herself from the equation,” Natasha thought out loud. “If you don’t worry about her, you’re least vulnerable.”

“That still doesn’t make any sense!” 

“Doesn’t it? I trained her, Steve. Tony has been telling her how his surveillance works. Clint has been sharing tips. She knows how to fall off radar. If she _truly_ disappeared, no one could use her to get to you. According to her, you’re safe.”

Her words felt like a cold fist clenching around Steve’s heart.

 _Fall off radar. Truly disappeared. Removed from the equation._ _Removed from his life._ He felt tears of helplessness and rage fighting their way out. He pushed them back.

Did you think he couldn’t keep you safe? Did you really think you were protecting him by running away? _How?_ Didn’t you two prove countless times that you were stronger together?  That together, you could take care of each other, look out for each other?

“I think I broke Captain America,” Michaels chuckled and Steve met his eyes, icy daggers in them. It actually made the man wince.

“Why?” Natasha asked coldly, circling Steve and standing by his left side now, staring at the prisoner.

Michaels raised his eyebrow. “Why what?”

“Obviously, you wanted to isolate _her_.”

Steve’s heart stopped at that exclaim. Natasha was right. The thing Michaels had told you about replicating his serum was an obvious a lie. This was about _you_. Michaels had been manipulating you so he could get to you.

”But you had that in Pennsylvania as well. Why go through all the trouble?” she pressed. Michaels eyed her lazily.

“Oh, sweetheart, I knew you would be with her, even as a backup, running after her like sick puppies. She would want you to, she wouldn’t do _that_ alone.  Protecting the man she owed everything though…”

Steve buried his fist in Michaels’ guts again, making him groan.

 _“Jesus fucking shit,_ what are you made of, vibranium?”

“Who do you work for? What do you want with her?” Steve hissed into the man’s face and it took all of his strength not to punch that self-appreciative smile off his face.

“What I told her. We want to replicate the serum,” he said smugly, attempting to shrug.

The room fell into stunned silence as everyone’s mind became one huge question mark. How would getting you could help to replicate the super-soldier ser-

Steve’s forearm dug into Michaels’s throat as the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

“Steve!” Natasha hissed, irritated.

“You’re not talking about the super-soldier serum,” Steve stated, his voice as icy as if he had your powers instead of his own. The choir of shocked gasps echoed in the small room as everyone came to the same conclusion.

They weren’t after the serum that had changed Steve. No. They were after the substance that had been created to cure your liver and turned out to do something completely different.

“Course not. Pff. Super-soldiers are so yesterday. The powers your precious _Snowflake_ possesses, on the other hand…”

It wasn’t Steve who placed a perfectly precise blow to break Michaels’ nose for the second time and knock him unconscious.

It was Natasha smaller fist powered by the rage of a parent or older sibling terrified for their loved one. Steve let the man fall down like a rag doll, his hands still shaking.

“Stop staring, people, we have a stray to find. Move your asses,” the Russian called out, making her way through her friends. Through her _family_. Her _sestra_ was missing and on a run for her life. They had a lot of work to do.

On the second thought, she should have kicked Michaels in his balls.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cough* Angst is coming. *cough, cough*
> 
> I’m still processing (and I probably will do for a long time) season 3 of DD. Like… holy cow. I’m good for now, but I’ll probably be begging for more in like a month if I keep myself busy. Maybe sooner.
> 
> Also, I feel a fresh wave of respect towards fighters. Like, seriously. I have a haematoma of the size of a tennis ball just around my elbow from practising— well, elbowing and it coloured within minutes. Also, last week I could finally put full weight on my leg after I had had an effusion and contused muscle (my shin was twice its original size, and, man, did it hurt) for being a klutz and kicking a guy in a wrong way. Kick-box is a lot of fun, but damn.
> 
> Anyway. Thoughts? :))


	8. 7) The fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have an early chapter. That is if you're reading this at all - I appreciate if you do. I would adore you if you let me know how you feel about it.
> 
> There's angst involved. But I guess that was expected ;)

Time flew and yet every second felt like forever. After a year of searching, something in Steve broke.

Maybe it was the pitiful looks, because despite everyone missing Frosty – and everyone called you Frosty by now, a sort of a tribute that felt like a punch to Steve’s solar plexus –, they all knew Steve was the one closest to you; after all, your relationship had been very intimate even before it had transformed into a romantic one.

The one year anniversary was painful. Funnily enough, he woke up shivering from cold and that was perhaps the worst of it all, the most obvious reminder of what day it was. The girl who controlled ice and snow was missing by his side and the cold was getting to him every day of her absence, a sensation he had seemed to be immune after spending seventy years in ice; that had been until you had left.

Waking up on the couch, once again alone and cold, he actually found his eyes watering right in the beginning of the day. You were still gone. It was as if you had disappeared into a thin air. Even after such a long time, even after so many missions they had been through, after all the attempts to find you when discovering the tinniest lead; he still remembered what had happened right after you went under.

_The unconscious bastard was lying at his feet as Natasha had delivered the final punch. He wanted to shoot her a murderous look for cutting off their source of information, but the truth was that there was probably nothing more Michaels could tell them. He had said enough. He had told them how he had manipulated you into running away._

_Steve clenched his jaw, his mind racing as he paced out the cell, passing his friends on his way. He went straight for the elevator._

_“Hey! Rogers! Where do you think you’re going?” Natasha yelled after him, barely keeping up with his long rapid steps._

_“JARVIS, gimme the e-mail she sent. Now.”_

_“Captain Rogers, I’m not sure Agent Romanov should be present for-“_

_“NOW.”_

_The elevator door was closing when Clint’s hand slipped through, stopping it. Both Barton and Stark stepped into the cabin to feed Steve’s annoyance. They hold the elevator for Banner too._

_Well, then the whole team would hear the message._

_“What about her GPS?” Natasha offered as Tony continued drawing on his tablet and ordered the staff to relocate Michaels to a cell with an actual door; Steve didn’t even feel guilty for ruining it, it had gotten into his way and he had needed to move goddammit._

_Tony’s brows furrowed. “Negative. It was the first thing I tried. She must have turned it off.”_

_“She can do that?” Clint questioned with his eyebrow raised. The look in his eyes was surprised, but serious and calculating. His thoughts must have been changing within fractions of seconds too, trying to figure out your possible next steps._

_“Well, yeah. I didn’t want her to be able to do that, but **someone**_ _insisted that she had the right to keep her privacy when going out and stuff.”_

_Steve’s fist collided with the wall of the rising elevator before he even realized he lifted his hand._

_“Hey! Cool it, Rogers!”_

_Steve’s teeth grinded at Stark’s admonishing. “Can you re-activate it?”_

_Tony remained silent, a clear indication that things were bad enough to shut up his witty mouth. He didn’t need to reply for everyone to know that the answer was no._

_“I already put my eyes on every camera in States and started a search for any weather anomaly, especially temperature drops. She might be a bit emotionally instable-“_

_Steve glared at him._

_“-you know what I mean. She was misbehaving a little when stressed by the kidnapping. She could slip. And when she will, we’ll know and find her.”_

_The cabin fell into silence._

_“But she won’t,” Clint stated, his voice thoughtful and regretful. Steve eyed him carefully, his heart clenching. You couldn’t be gone so easily, right? They would find you. Even if the price was you failing to keep your powers in check._

_“Why would you say that?” Bruce questioned._

_“He’s right,” Natasha agreed, her lips thin line. “She won’t. This is different – there’s no immediate danger, it’s not up to her to **save**_ _someone. Her only goal is to remain hidden so no one will find her and use her to get to Steve. She’ll be focused on that part.”_

_Steve swallowed loudly as he realized Natasha and Clint were right. The redhead knew you too well and despite how hard she would try to deny it if anyone asked, she had a special connection with you just for being a woman. As for Clint… he was good at predicting behaviour since he was often observing from a distance._

_Steve should be better than them. He should **know**_ **_you_** _better, you spent the most time with him, but somehow it didn’t feel like he did._

_What would you do? Where would you go? How would you do it? He needed to get his thoughts straight, goddammit._

_Steve tightened his fists, returning his attention to Stark as the elevator dinged and its door opened._

_“Keep looking. Natasha, call Fury. We need to close every single airport,” he barked orders, heading for his and your room._

_“What are **you** gonna do?” Tony shouted after him. Steve only got a murmured reply he couldn’t hear._

_“I’ve got an e-mail to read.”_

It hadn’t been a surprise when he had found the e-mail explaining what Michaels had told you and asking Steve not to look for you. It was about as shocking as him not complying with your wish and starting the search. He had called Matt Murdock back then, begging for him to prick up his ears and immediately let them know if you contacted him or if he overheard any tiny bit.

Needless to say it had been all for nothing.

A year of searching and no result had popped out, not a real one. Steve was done.

That day, he came to conclusion he couldn’t stand being in the Tower anymore. He moved to Washington D.C., claiming it was advantageous for him to be closer to the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. He was lying through his teeth and everyone knew it, yet no one said a word.

Natasha followed, using the same excuse. Everyone knew she was lying as well and no one called her out on that either.

\---

For all the people he had lost, Steve found comfort in Peggy Carter. Now it would be a lie if he said that there was no pain in those meetings too, seeing her after her whole life happened during his time as a ‘Capsicle’, only space for more regrets remaining, but at least she was still here.

Close to the headquarters, he could afford going from one mission straight into another, yet being ready to take off if any new information about your whereabouts popped out.

After the fiasco with hostages on the Lemurian Star and Natasha’s separate mission, after Natasha keeping secrets from him – her from all people, one of the rare species he had trusted with his life –, it would be an understatement to say he had doubts about S.H.I.E.L.D. and its methods. Talking to Peggy helped, but words could only as much.

But remembering you, remembering the agency once helping you – even though that was mostly Tony and his tech – was one of the reasons he was staying. Together with the fact he had no chance of finding you without the agency’s resources and tech support.

When Director Fury was murdered, things spiralled. HYDRA turned out to still exist and what more, to be still active. It left Steve with no doubts of who was truly after you, but finally discovering it was no comfort at all. He and Natasha becoming the most wanted was just the cherry on top. At least he found a friend and an ally where he hadn’t expected it.

\---

Natasha was in the shower and Steve didn’t feel like explaining their situation to his new friend Sam on his own. He needed a minute to breathe and while he knew it was a luxury he couldn’t quite afford, he decided it couldn’t do that much harm.

He pulled out the photos he kept in his wallet – there was a line at each of them in the middle as he had been unfolding them too often. Both were of you.

He stared at the one where the two of you were together, lying on a hospital bed, cuddled impossibly close to each other. There were plenty of photos of you two that the team had snatched during your time together without either of you two noticing, but this was his favourite, no matter how strange it may seem. It was a reminder of the moment when you had told him you loved him for the first time, the careful declaration that had had a hidden meaning at the time; and on top of that, it reminded him how fragile you could be and how he had to appreciate every moment with you, because you might not be there the next. He would know that for a while now.

Steve sighed, sparing one more glance at the picture before folding it again and hiding it with care. He unfolded the other one, his lips curling up in a fond smile automatically.

It was an old photo as well, only this time it was just you. It was when you had been getting a hold of your powers; the photo captured the moment you had created a tiny spiral of ice growing from your hand. Your eyes in the picture were wide and shining in awe, the first spark of true happiness since you had gained your powers. You were watching your creation as if it was magical, your expression one of the astonished ones that the kids wore when seeing a Christmas tree for the first time in their lives. Steve remembered you had looked at him after the photo had been taken, giving him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, so grateful and so blinding for him. He had fell in love with that smile, with you, just like that; it had been when he had realized for the first time that you somehow managed to steal his heart.

“That Frostbite?” a voice startled him from behind and Steve winced.

A pang of shame coloured his cheeks at being caught, but more importantly, the two simple words made his stomach clench.

“She hated that alias,” Steve whispered, not quite caring if it was appropriate to share. He needed someone to listen, just for a second. He had been pushing it all away for so long… and he needed to correct Sam. “It fed the guilt in her – she wasn’t too good with her powers when she first discovered them.”

“Sorry. She looks… happy here. Harmless. As if all she ever wanted was to create an ice slide for kids or something.”

One corner of Steve’s lips quirked up involuntarily. “Yeah… I think she would like that.”

“That why she retired? …what? I do catch up with the news, you know. She hasn’t been seen for a while.”

“She… she went under. Someone – HYDRA, I presume now – was threatening her. Hurt her parents and threatened m-“ he stammered, not wanting to say the word _‘me’_ out loud and admit it was all on him. “-and threatened some more.  She wanted to protect--- them.“

He licked his lips, taking a deep breath, swallowing against the lump growing in is throat. He couldn’t make himself meet Sam’s eyes, the heavy feeling of guilt, the feeling of _failing_ _you_ falling on his shoulders with a weight heavier than ever.

On the other hand, maybe it was good you weren’t with him now. They had a lot on their plates – and a whole lot more people coming after them. The last thing you needed was another spotlight on you.

Actually, maybe this whole mess could help you to hide; they sure were distracting HYDRA enough. Of course, the circumstances were less than ideal. And he could never be sure that HYDRA hadn’t got you already.

“Sounds like your kind of person,” Sam offered gently and Steve snorted  humourlessly, putting the photo away. Something in Sam’s tone told him he was aware of how much of ‘his’ you were. Or had been, anyway. “I’m sorry, man. So you’re looking for her?”

“The _whole S.H.I.E.L.D._ is looking for her. Including HYDRA, apparently. If they haven’t found her already.”

Sam’s hand landed on Steve’s shoulder. “Hey. I don’t know her personally, but she seems pretty badass. I’m sure they didn’t get to her, otherwise you would know. From what I heard and saw, she can take care of herself. No doubt learned from the best.”

“Damn right, Wilson. Are we doing things now or what?” Natasha entered the room with her voice firm and determined.

“Yeah. Let’s talk about how to bring those sons of bitches down.”

“…we?”

\---

The fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and hopefully the leadership of HYDRA felt like pressing a restart button. Steve had run to Washington to escape the suffocating air in the Tower where your perfume seemed to linger and all he got was this. Too many things had happened. When adding Bucky to all the mess…

It was as if he kept losing people he loved, as if he kept failing them. He couldn’t do that anymore. He needed to go after Bucky and trust Natasha to search for you; it was one of the hardest decisions he had ever made. He wasn’t giving up on you – hell no. But unlike with Bucky, there were no leads on you. Even with all HYDRA secrets uncovered and uploaded on the internet, there was no word on you; but it was a little comfort that they _probably_ didn’t have you.

Fury went under, giving his goodbye to the trio by a gravestone with his name. Steve and Natasha parted ways, Sam joining him; the ex-military understood the urge to go after a friend, himself not being able to save his own. Steve was grateful.

The world he was finally getting to know fell apart once again. He couldn’t help but wish you were with him to help him survive the fall.

But you weren’t.  


 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such a huge time skip. But well, I wanted to get it out of the way. I’ll deal with Age of Ultron with a little more plot, I promise :)) I actually really like how the next chapter is turning out :D


	9. 8) The truth-bearer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get a bit gross here. But maybe you won’t think so. Just saying it to make sure you’re warned.

Steve didn’t know why he had been hoping his search for Bucky would go any better than his search for you. The results were down to zero; trying to take down the remaining HYDRA bases was not leaving much time for his own investigation in the first place. Bucky was another person he was failing – again.

You were gone. Bucky was gone. None of locked up HYDRA operatives felt like victory to him, despite the team objectively winning. Time dragged.

The Avengers regaining the Asgardian sceptre was a perfect excuse for Tony to throw a party, especially with Thor staying for it. Steve was in no mood for celebrations, meeting individuals enhanced due to experiments – one of him a young woman – bringing back the memories of you too heavily.

But in the end – with the help of Asgardian liquor – he found himself forgetting the weight on his shoulders wearing him down for few moments.

And then Tony’s artificial intelligence appeared with the goal of destroying the world, he apparently made an ally with the enhanced Maximoff twins, and Steve had no time to mope at all.

That was until they went after a man who got his hands on vibranium and a strange energy hit his head, making him dizzy; his eyes fallen shut for a short moment and when he opened them again, things were just not the same.

Steve found himself in a spacious ballroom, loud swing music attacking his ears. He blinked in shock, looking around cautiously.

What the-

An explosion blinded him for a second and he automatically crouched – except no, it wasn’t an explosion, it was just a flash of a camera, an attempt to capture the lively entertainment, men and women dancing together, flirtatious and animated moves, laugh seconding the melody coming from the band on the stage.

A bang sounded on his left and he fought the urge to cover his head, the insuppressible instinct gained by years of fighting. It was just one of the waiters opening a bottle of champagne. No guns. No guns anywhere, despite another man in a well-fitting suit cleaning his friends’ jacket – Steve would think he had been shot with the crimson liquid covering his clothes, but he could see few more drops of red wine remaining in the glass in his hand; and of course, everyone around was laughing again.

The resemblance of war in the frisky party was terrifying and Steve found himself wishing to rather be on the battlefield where red meant blood and loud noises meant gunshots – because that he knew how to work with.

“Steve,” soft female voice addressed him and he quickly spun on his heels to face the woman he once loved.

If she hadn’t spoken, it would have taken him a while to recognize Agent Carter, _Peggy,_ young and beautiful, unlike him not wearing a uniform. No, Peggy was all dolled up, pretty blue dress and her lipstick dark shade of red, drawing attention to her mouth curled up in a hesitant smile.

“Are you ready for our dance?” she asked expectantly, and Steve gulped, his nerves working. He started at the woman, grateful when another loud bang gave him an excuse to look away.

What— how? Peggy had grown old, he had been asleep for years, frozen in ice. He had woken up in a modern world, not in this, this wasn’t-- this looked like the times too familiar to him, the times of World War II., the-

“The war is over, Steve. We can go home,” Peggy’s voice suggested gently and Steve slowly turned his head back to her.

Only to find _you_ in her place, a soft inviting smile on your lips. His heart stopped, his breath hitching. The music faded away into slower melody, calmer, but beautiful.

“Snowflake,” escaped his lips unwittingly, the nickname, the _endearment_ so foreign on his tongue after such a long time.

You were here. Wherever this was, _whatever_ this was, you were here, alive and well, pretty red dress flattering your lean figure, making his eyes roam over it before his gaze settled at your face. Your expression was one of shy ones and slightly amused at his awe.

“I know. Blue suits me better, right?” you laughed bashfully, lowering your gaze and it was all it took to Steve’s feet to cross the distance and he pulled you in for a tight hug. “Steve?”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he breathed out shakily, nuzzling his face in your hair. Tears stung in his eyes, but he ignored them, indulging the sensation of your body pressed to his, your light perfume tickling his nostrils, your hair soft against his skin. “And you look lovely in red.”

Your body shook with hushed laughter and you melted into his embrace, your ear over his heart. Steve loved when you did that, reminding him that his heartbeat was as important to you as yours was to him.

“Are we gonna dance, Steve?”

Steve smiled against your scalp, planting a tender kiss there. “Of course. If you want to. But you know I’m not much of a dancer.”

You pushed against his chest a little with your rather tiny palms, looking up and rewarding him with a gorgeous smile. Your eyes twinkled with happiness.

“You being my partner is what will make it special even if you step on my toes.”

Steve felt his heart swell, too big for his ribcage now. You put your hands around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist in what was barely a dancing stance, but neither of you cared as you swung in the slow rhythm. Steve couldn’t take his eyes of you – you were so close, so real in his arms and oh so content as if there was no place you would rather be.

Peripherally he noticed that all of the people around you resolved into thin air as if he snapped his fingers; he would find it strange, but then your head was resting against his chest and he realized he didn’t care.

He tightened his embrace and leaned to your ear with sudden urge. “Come home with me,” he whispered, not having a clue where it came from, just _knowing_ he wanted nothing else.

The words rolled off his tongue so easily and felt _so right._ You going home with him, whatever home it was, wherever home was. The thought of that didn’t scare him, not anymore.

Your lips spread into a delighted smile and then you were kissing him, your palms framing his face. You suddenly stood in the halls of the Tower in front of your common room, originally only his, and Steve didn’t care what kind of magic it was. His fingers fell into your hair, drawing you to him, while his other hand was on your waist, never wanting to let you go. _Never._

He sunk his lips into yours deeper, exploring the sweet taste of your mouth he had almost forgotten. His hand clutched your dress tightly at the moan you released from your lips and Steve pushed a little, fumbling with the handle so you could get out of your snoopy teammates’ sights. You smiled against his mouth, letting him, and walking backwards as he pushed further blindly until your calf finally hit the bed.

You fell down with a giggle and that was when Steve realized he had no longer control over his body. His eyes snapped open, but it was as if they were and weren’t his own at the same time. His gaze met with sterile white examination room, a cold single bed you now lay on, your smile inviting as ever. His fingers reached for the leather straps on the side of the bed and you offered your wrist deliberately as he clasped it tightly, your other hand following.

Steve fought his own body to stop cuffing you, to stop— whatever he was doing, but it was as if his hands didn’t belong to him. He was just there to watch his body acting without his command. The picture of you flickered in front of his eyes and suddenly your red dress was gone, replaced by sickeningly green hospital gown. His fingers continued their work, tying up your ankles to the bed next.

Steve wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, to curl his hands into fists, just to get a fucking  grip on himself, but it was all in vain. When he fastened the straps, he leaned in, closer to your face, kissing your forehead. You smiled with just a trace of worry, your eyes wide with fear but trusting.

“What are we doing today?” you asked warmly and Steve sensed that the phantom of his body raised one corner of its lips.

“Don’t think we got enough samples yesterday,” he heard himself saying and a second later, he buried a thick needle into your sternum, your scream echoing in his ears.

The inner Steve gasped, crying out your name breathlessly as you threw your head back with your jaw clenched and your eyes squeezed shut. Tears rolled down your cheeks, but he pushed the needle a bit deeper, watching it fill with bone marrow.

And then his hands were on your elbow, taking your blood, adding a fresh vial to several others – eleven, there were eleven vials already and now he added the twelfth one –, and your skin played with colours in the area where the samples were taken from, needle marks blossoming into wide bruises, old ones and fresh ones. Where the skin was free of bruises, it was scarily pale, looking paper thin, and Steve couldn’t fucking breathe, his heart stopping at the sight.

He needed to snap from this, this must have been a dream, a horrible nightmare, how was this-

His fingers brushed sweat-soaked hair from your face, white as sheet of paper apart from the dark circles under your eyes. Your eyelids fluttered open and you met his gaze. You seemed exhausted, but there was an endless trust in him in your eyes, almost reverential, a sad smile on your purple lips.

“Love you,” you whispered soundlessly and Steve honestly just wanted to scream. Scream until his throat would be raw and hurting, because _he_ was doing this to you somehow.

“Love you too. You’re so strong, Snowflake,” he praised and Steve felt a wave of nausea attacking his stomach, tears in his eyes at the burning sensation of the bile rising to his mouth. This was so wrong, so _twisted_ , the creature wearing his face and calling you _that_ while- “You can take more, can’t you? I know you can, I believe in you.”

_Stop this!_

This must have been a dream, Steve needed to snap from this, he couldn’t stand it anymore, seeing you like this-- he released a relieved breath as he – not quite him – uncuffed you, mentally thanking god for having mercy upon you.

But it didn’t stop there. The image changed again and suddenly you were strapped to an enormous chair, wires and tubes leading from several machines to your body, tiny lights flickering, periodical beeping of a heart monitor echoing in the room. He watched you from the corner of his eye, mainly focusing on what looked like a bomb exploding in a slowed motion. A strange blue energy surrounded it and he realized with shock that it was you – you were slowing down the detonation with your powers.

“That’s good, Snowflake. I’m so proud of you for controlling it like this,” he heard himself again and he wanted to throw up

These were his words. The authentic himself. _I believe in you. Love you, Snowflake. I’m so proud of you, you controlled yourself perfectly._

God, Steve just wished to pass out at this point. But here he was, staring dully and unable to do a thing.

“Thank you.”

Something cringed inside him at the tone of your voice, sounding as if you were on your deathbed and yet, your tone was dripping with gratitude and relief.

“But I’m so tired, Steve.”

Steve felt his jaw tremble, yet he knew for a fact that the phantom, the vessel of his body, was unfazed by the statement. It charmed a smile on its lips. “I know, Snowflake. Try harder, hold it. You can do this.”

He saw you nod and his head snapped to you fully as he noticed a trickle of blood dripping down your chin. He tilted his head curiously.

 _‘No! Stop!’_ he wanted to cry out, but no sound came out.

You squinted at the bomb, keeping your focus. Then your eyelids closed, fresh badge of blood coming out of your mouth. Steve sprung forward to do _anything_ – except he didn’t. He didn’t move besides taking two measured steps closer to the chair, his lips whispering to your ear.

“Keep. Working. Or they’ll replace you with me. You wouldn’t want that, would you? For them to hurt me?” he demanded sweetly and Steve felt his insides being torn apart.

What kind of a sick blackmail was that?

 _The real one_ , he realized.

This must have been a nightmare, but it was nothing but true. You were out there. Most likely tortured. Serving as someone’s personal lab rat. Fighting for your life. And yet, the motivation you had was the fight for _his_ life, because it was never supposed to be you in the chair. It was supposed to be him – or you believed so.

All of that happened to you, because you were trying to protect him. And while he didn’t lead the needles into your body himself, he might as well could; because there he was, unable to do anything, only watching.

Just like when you had talked to Michaels alone, just like when you had disappeared and he should have _known_ you would when you had acted so strangely that fatal night.

Your eyes snapped open at his words with a whimper, new spark of determination in them.

Steve’s stomach rolled over as he saw the pool of blue energy around your weak hands, fighting to ball into fists. With horror, he realized that the beeping of the heart monitor was unnaturally fast and when he looked at it, the machine was screaming with red exclamation marks.

You coughed and he felt hot liquid hit his cheek. He let out a disgusted sound, once again against his will.

He stood up straight as he reached for a tissue, wiping the substance off of his face. The crimson of your blood was in stark contrast to the white of the tissue and when he glanced at you, your eyes were rolled up to the ceiling.

“Bring her back,” he growled, several people in scrubs showing up as if from the thin air. He spun on his heels, heading to the door. “We’re not done with her yet.”

Steve yelled at himself to stop in his track, to fucking stay and fight for her life, but his legs just kept walking.

The doctors and nurse were murmuring something he didn’t understand, clinking of the tools in their hands unnaturally loud. The room was quiet otherwise; the heart monitor fell silent.

He didn’t even look back and the door clicked shut behind him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m such a horrible person for enjoying writing this chapter. I know that, okay? :D But I actually enjoyed that little peak in the Avengers’ heads in the AoU movie in the first place, so it was even more fun to toy with Steve’s a little.
> 
> One more chapter and then we go back to the ‘reader’ POV ;)


	10. 9) The flares

_But did you see the flares in the sky?_  
_Were you blinded by the light?_  
_Did you feel the smoke in your eyes?_  
_Did you, did you?_  
_Did you see the sparks filled with hope?_  
_You are not alone_  
_'Cause someone's out there, sending out flares_

_(The Script – Flares)_

The hallucination – the vision, perhaps – was a true eye-opener. Not because it was any news that Steve was the one to blame for your departure, no, but because actually seeing possibly a very true picture of what was happening to you was something that felt like a bullet to his brain. It was maddening and it should have made him spring into further action; yet, Steve couldn’t find himself having a strength to get mad. He was just too tired. Exhausted, with the weariness settled deep inside his bones.

And while he never had been the one to weep over the universe apparently hating him, he allowed himself to feel that way; especially when Maria Hill advised them to lay low and Clint took them into a safe house.

Correction: Clint took them _home_. Clint Barton had a home without anyone knowing (except Natasha, because Natasha knew everything and shared nothing), two healthy kids and a beautiful loving wife, living in a rural idyll. And once that information settled in Steve’s head, his heart broke a little.

He could have a home. He could see himself having a home. He might not have before, not after coming out of the ice, not even long after actually. Not even the first time he had realized he was in love with you, no. It came with gradually and Steve hadn’t been quite aware of it; perhaps that was the actual truth that the vision created by Wanda Maximoff had revealed. With that hallucination, it had dawned to Steve that he had been ready to go home, for a while now; no matter what exactly home looked like, no matter how much fighting he would still be doing, for how many mission he would be going or if he would be able to reduce that.

He was ready to go home and he _wished to_ go home.

And in reality, it didn’t matter, because he had lost you.

It was a relief when Fury showed up and helped them to figure out how to fight back – the battles they actually could fight. It reminded Steve that there were still battles worth fighting. It took his dark thoughts away, or at least it pushed them on the back burner for a while.

Then again, meeting Maximoff’s once more wasn’t helping. And the girl, suddenly so eager to fix things she had done wrong, reminded him of you too much. He shook off the thought when he went for what could be the final battle and tried his best to focus. No matter how insane the suddenly levitating city was.

And then they all knew it was the end.

“Stark will find a way to blow this rock,” Natasha stated rather calmly as they caught a moment to breathe in on the battlefield.

It was surprising how much faith she seemed to have into Tony with how he kept doing things behind their backs – then again, everyone seemed to be keeping secrets from another lately. But that wasn’t what he found outraging at her statement.

The city was flying and there was no way to save all the people before Stark would make it explode. Lost lives. Failure. Again.

Not on his watch.

“Not until everyone’s safe.”

Natasha looked at him with disbelief, probably questioning his sanity. “Everyone up here, versus everyone down there-“

“I’m not leaving this rock with one civilian on it,” Steve exclaimed stubbornly, the flame of fury lighting up in him.

No. Not this time, not again. He had failed too many times. He had lost so many battles and he was not about to lose another one, he was not about to fail people again.

Natasha gave him a sad smile. “I’m not saying we should.”

The look they exchanged spoke thousand words. This was indeed the end. They truly wouldn’t leave – they would either save everyone’s life or more likely die trying. There was a strange peace in that. That was how he was supposed to go, right? Like a soldier. Like a person who had decided to dedicate his life to save someone else’s. He just selflessly wished it would have been yours or Bucky’s or of someone who was closer to his heart. But he didn’t get to choose.

It was as if Natasha read his thoughts, when she whispered: “There are worse ways to go. Where else am I gonna get a view like this?”

Steve looked briefly over the edge of the flying crater of the city. He would think Natasha was right; but there were so many things he would rather see before he would close his eyes forever. Your smile for example, no matter where the two of you would be. Just your smile, knowing you were safe and he hadn’t failed.

But Steve wasn’t destined to have such luck.

When Fury’s voice announced them that the view would actually get _better_ via their comms, Steve couldn’t help but chuckle and feel a little flicker of hope. A flare in the endless darkness. Maybe there were things they could fix and people they wouldn’t fail after all.

He only realized he had been a fool thinking that, when it was over and one of the lives they lost was Wanda Maximoff’s brother’s. Strangely enough, Steve envied him. But only a bit.

\---

The weirdest thing was Tony Stark being the one to pluck up his courage not to give up. Not that he was aware of that.

Saying goodbye to him as Steve decided to stay at the army base with Natasha, Tony had told him something so simple that it shouldn’t have move Steve the way it did.

“Maybe I should take a page from Barton’s book. Buy Pepper a farm, hope nobody will blow it up…” Tony hummed almost lost in thoughts and Steve was once again surprised how the billionaire managed to bring a smile on his face despite all of their differences.

“The simple life.”

“You’ll get that too someday,” Tony reassured him with a smirk that poorly covered the sincerity behind his words. It was the softness in his eyes that gave it away.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Definitely, Cap. You know that me taking off doesn’t mean I’ll stop looking, right? You shouldn’t either. She’s out there somewhere. We’ll find her and bring her home.”

Steve smiled shakily at him, feeling the familiar adrenalin and determination flooding his veins. Tony was right. You were out there and they _would_ bring you home, they just needed to try hard enough.

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Any time, Capsicle.” Tony patted Steve’s arm before he slid into his fancy car, the door clicking shut. Then the window rolled down, Tony’s head sticking out. “Oh, and do me a favour. Pop the question when we do, okay?”

The captain felt his cheeks burn, a chill running down his spine as Tony somehow sensed the change in Steve’s longing, but he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Sure. Take care, Tony.”

The Iron Man saluted him with two fingers and with a roar of his sports car’s engine and a whole lot of whirled dust disappeared in the distance. Steve stared into nothingness for a an embarrassingly long time.

\---

Steve found Natasha absently staring into a wall, a tablet in her hand forgotten. She turned to him when the door clicked behind him.

“Done gazing into Tony’s eyes? Ready to go to work?” she teased, an easy smile on her lips.

The corners of her mouth rose higher when she saw his expression; she hadn’t seen him this determined for a while. It was funny what things could make people happier. Natasha didn’t think losing Bruce somewhere in a quinjet could do that. Then again, they just saved multiple lives. Unlike her, Steve deserved the feeling of victory. If she didn’t feel quite the same, no one needed to know.

Steve’s thumbs slid into the loops of his belt as he stopped in front of her, rocking on his heels.

Uh-oh. Big announcement coming, she could tell as much, and she wasn’t sure she would like it.

“I’m ready,” Steve confirmed and one look into his eyes told Natasha that he spoke it was the truth – but not quite.

She knew that look too well. He had it every time they got a track on you. And since she knew for a fact that there were no new leads… her heart sank.

“Steve…”

Steve could immediately tell Natasha understood, just like he could see she didn’t approve.

“I should be out there, looking for her. I _need_ _to_ be, because she’s somewhere, alone, and she can’t hide forever. I’ll find her – but it needs to be my priority from now.”

“Steve,” she addressed him, softer this time, wary of her tone, so it didn’t sound like she was admonishing him. “We got no lead for eternity-“

“That only means we need to try harder!”

“We’re doing our best and you know it. The moment we get the tiniest lead – like the last time with early snow in London –, we drop whatever we do with the recruits and we’ll be on our way.”

“Natasha-“ he started out again, but she cut him off.

“You’re not the only one who’s desperate to find her, Rogers! But the world hasn’t stopped turning! There are still threats and we need to deal with it. She wouldn’t want to-“

“Don’t you _dare_ to speak for her, Romanov-!“

“For God’s sake, Steve! Do you really think she would have asked you not to look for her if she wanted you to drop everything and come find her? “

He gasped as he felt the air knocked out of him.

It pissed him off, the burning feeling of betrayal squeezing his chest. Why was she discouraging him from this? Why? And how dared she to speak for you? She hadn’t seen it. She hadn’t seen what he had, what they had been doing to you and finally it hadn’t been her idly hands letting you suffer, only watching it all happen.

Steve couldn’t hold it anymore. So he exploded.

“What she did was stupid! She could be tortured right now, Natasha, serving as someone’s personal lab rat! You said it yourself, we didn’t get a single lead-”

“Exactly. Where would you go?”

“I don’t know!” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air helplessly, his breathing getting harder. Because she totally hit the nail on the head – Steve had no clue, but he was sick it. He needed to know, he needed to do something, because just waiting for something fall into his lap was torture. “But anything is better than doing nothing!”

“We’re not doing nothing, Rogers. We just saved countless lives-“

“But not the one that mattered!” he cried out, his fist hitting the railing so hard it shook around the whole room. The sound of it resonated in the suddenly silent space as the severity of the sentence fell on both Natasha and Steve.

The redhead pressed her lips together, tears she would later deny gleaming in her eyes. Steve leaned onto the railing, bowing his head in defeat. He did not mean to say that. Especially not to Natasha, who had just lost Bruce to God knew where.

_Shit._

“I’m sorry, Natasha, I-“

The spy shook her head, blinking the sudden prove of weakness from her eyes.

“I get it. And I agree with the stupidity, but she did it because she believed it was the only option and a right one. And I rather believe she’s just _that_ good neither we nor anyone else can find her than that she was captured.”

Her voice was thick with emotions she didn’t want to show and the guilt stung harder in Steve’s gut. He was being an ass. A big one. A selfish one on top of that.

“…I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“I think I’ll live,” she sighed, lighting the tablet up. “I get it, Steve. I miss her too.” _And I miss Bruce too. I’m scared for him,_ was left unspoken, but they both knew it might as well could.

“Yeah. I… I know.”

“And it’s not your fault she’s gone. I know you think it is, but that’s nonsense. Don’t beat yourself over it. Just don’t give up on her.”

Steve sighed, closing his eyes and attempting to regain his composure. His balled hands shook inconspicuously. He needed to be strong. He was expected to be strong, especially in front of the new recruits and no matter how much he hated it, moping wouldn’t help anyway. And hot-headed decisions, flying form one end of the world to another without an actual goal neither.

He cleared his throat. “Alright. What do we have here?”

“Bunch of kids who think they know what they’re doing.”

“And they are not a team.”

“And they are as far from a team they could be,” Natasha corrected him as she handed him the tablet and threw the door to a corridor leading to a training room open.

Steve studied all the names and pictures, mentally cataloguing them. “Sounds like a lot of work. Shall we start?”

\---

“Captain Rogers?” Wanda whispered shyly, her unmistakable voice heavy with accent.

Steve stopped in his tracks, trying to plaster a smile on his face. Interacting with her… it was too much. Her age, her powers, her persona – it was too similar, too much of a painful reminder of you and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the resemblance nagged him in the back of his brain like a constant itch he couldn’t scratch, because he couldn’t reach it.

“Yes, Wanda?”

“I’m sorry.”

Steve tilted his head, pretending his heart wasn’t beating out of his chest. Had she read his mind? She probably had, if not recently, then surely when they had been fighting against each other. But why speak up now? It must have been about something else.

“What for?”

“I am… still learning how to control the abilities,” she started hesitantly and it confused the hell out of Steve.

Was she apologizing for not making progress fast enough? They had just finished the first training. And of course, had fought a battle against an army of robots.

“That’s understandable. But you’re doing great.”

She smiled faintly. “Thank you. But… it’s… I can’t turn them off. I can… feel the pain and deep sadness settled in you.”

Steve froze. Well. Shit.

“And… when I caused you the hallucinations… I got a glimpse. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he rasped, not even shocked how the combination of her persona and the topic of their conversation brought right back on the edge. “You believed you were doing the right thing. We can’t change the past, but we can still do our best to make a better present and future.”

“Like she did?”

Steve glared into her eyes at the note, unable to say a word. She lowered her gaze.

“I said I got a glimpse, but she was almost everywhere – each of you thought of her. She always made an appearance, at least for a moment. I… I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I just… I guess I want to say thank you for giving me a chance to redeem myself and… and-”

“Wanda… you deserve a chance. You don’t need to thank for that. As for the other thing… I would appreciate if we kept the conversation about that on minimum.”

“Of course! I’m just… I’m working on some things, I’m trying to… to control someone’s emotions and I could help you to— I know it’s invasive!” she blurted out hastily as Steve’s expression changed into a horrified one. “But… with _Pietro_ … I was able to keep tabs on him when on the field, we had a connection-“

“I’m very sorry for your brother, Wanda, I truly am,” Steve said softly, pouring some compassion in and resting his hand gently on her shoulder. Grief he understood too well.

“I… what I’m trying to say is that I would probably feel him at the other side of the world, because we were really close, and— and maybe-- maybe if you let me know Sno--- _the person_ that you feel you have disappointed well enough, if everyone would let me… I think that perhaps with Vision’s help, I might be able to find her mind and track her down.”

Steve stared at the young woman paralyzed, absolutely stunned and his own mind a complete and utter mess. Did she just said— did she-- could she really--- it sounded too good. It sounded insane. Like a sci-fi; but then again, their whole life was. This woman could read _minds_. She could move things with her own, she could read emotions. She could---- could she really find you? It seemed impossible.

He didn’t want to give in to the hope. He always had, every single time the recognition system had found a face almost matching yours only to find a girl who could be your twin, every single time a weather anomaly occurred and he would chase down the lead like a madman only to find nothing, always scolding himself for believing you would be so careless. And the truth was, he was growing tired of it. He always followed, never letting the trail go cold, but with every failed attempt, he was being kicked lower and lower. The spark of determination from Tony had been very short-lived.

“Captain Rogers?”

“Yes?” Steve snapped from his daydreaming, eyeing Wanda absently.

“Your thoughts are screaming at me. Not your fault. Just… do you want to tell me about her? If I know her, I can start trying. And I understand we don’t know each other too well for you to open your mind completely so I could see and hear for myself. So… you could just tell me,” she suggested, this time being the gentle one. It was another reminder of you and it hurt like hell. And at the same time, the offer was painfully tempting. “I really do remind you of her a lot, don’t I?”

Steve gave her a sad smile, little broken on its edges.

“You have no idea.”

“Give me one, then. I could be a good listener.”

Steve chuckled as she offered him an elbow in a poor attempt of a joke and blinked away the tears he had no idea where had come from. He really should get a grip on himself.

“Okay. She… she was someone very special and unique…”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Now Age of Ultron is out the way. Aaaand we’re getting back to the ‘reader’ to find out what she has been up to all this time.


	11. 10) Alone is what I have

_"Alone is what I have, alone protects me." (BBC’s Sherlock Holmes)  
…And what more, alone protects the people I care about the most. _

 

Prague was an interesting city. You supposed it was not too much different from other European cities, the old buildings and a breath of history on every other corner meeting the modern steel and technology of today, but there was just some kind of an aura that got to you. The system of public transportation had been a bit confusing at first, but allowed countless different ways of getting where you needed, which also meant many different escape routes – you still were a pragmatic. And you liked it here.

What you not necessarily liked, but definitely appreciated for its convenience, was the anonymity and the nature of Czech people – it took them a lot of time to warm up to someone, no matter how warm-hearted they could become once they let someone in.

In the streets of Prague, you could easily recognize Praguer from a foreigner; unlike the foreigners, the habitants of Czech capital had developed an amazing ability of looking around and not _seeing_. They would meet the same person for the fourth time in the past hours and they simply wouldn’t notice. They were having their eyes for nothing; it always reminded you of Matt Murdock, the blind lawyer of Hell’s Kitchen who was the exact opposite.

Matt, despite not being able to use his eyes anymore, saw more than anyone. You had thought of contacting him many times, just to have _some_ familiarity in your new world where friendship or any kind of a relationship was a luxury you couldn’t afford, but you always backed up. You were too scared of him getting in touch with the Avengers’ team. Not to mention his lawyer persona seemed busy enough even without your load of crap – you had looked him up few times, rather rarely and always within walking distance from the faculty of law of Charles University of Prague, so you wouldn’t raise suspicion about yourself. After all, a random person connected to public wi-fi taking interest in a very specific lawyer of Hell’s Kitchen could be much of a hint; if the random person was a law student though… you thought it was relatively safe.

So you only had acquaintances, people you met from time to time, but never for their friendship – they were more of business partners, really. You headed to a meeting to a café one of ‘your’ people, Eva, frequented rather often and liked to hang out there.

You found a boot in the back. You pulled out your laptop and started it, automatically checking on your surrounding once more; it was a terrible and necessary habit of a person who was on the run. Since you were almost 15 minutes early, you decided to catch up with the world (read the Avengers) on free wi-fi.

The apartment you lived in had no internet connection and once again, you needed the anonymity; if people connecting in a café checked the news site and paid a lot of attention to news of New York City and the Avengers, no one could question it – and it wouldn’t pop out at Tony’s radar, because no one could tell the search was coming from one particular person. 

When you opened the news site, your heart stopped. Your breath froze on your lips, your throat getting impossibly tight, your vision immediately blurring. You squinted at the screen so you could re-read the headline. 

**_‘Did our Captain die for nothing?’_ **

You could feel the optical mouse crying under your palm as the frost covered it, but you couldn’t make yourself to care.

Your eyes were roaming around the article, desperately finding a prove of you being wrong.

Luckily, you were.

_Seventy years ago, Steven Grant Rogers, a man we know as Captain America, laid down his life to save countless others. The serum-powered soldier’s mission was to take down HYDRA, Nazi’s science division, and all history books claim that he and his Howling Commandos achieved that. Yet, the events of past days are telling us a different story. Captain America and other S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives were fighting the very same organization everyone believed to be defeated. While in reality, HYDRA had been growing in their own rows._

The reporter went on, uncovering an enormous intel leak from S.H.I.E.L.D. following the discovery of HYDRA moles inside of the government agency, but there was no other word on Steve. You choose to believe he was alive – because they would sure mention if he _wasn’t_ –, finally allowing yourself to breathe in.

You decided you hated reporters and their shocking headlines that were supposed to bait more readers. You almost had a fucking heart-attack.

Now, you had to believe Steve was alright. In addition, you learned he had found a new ally known as Falcon – a man with advanced technology in a form of fucking _wings_. Also, Natasha had been by his side.

Reading into details of the article – and multiple others – you were stressing over your parents again. Fury had told you there was no record of their current position in S.H.I.E.L.D. files, something he had taken care of when finding out there had been the leak about your identity in the first place. In theory, they should be safe – but all you had was hope.

There was a tiny voice in the back of your head, luring you back to US, back to the Avengers, back to Steve. Once again, the theory was he should be safer now – you believed now that Michaels was part of HYDRA, the organization he had been talking about to scare you off being nothing else but the group finding its origins in the thirties – yet, you were too scared to take that risk. If HYDRA had handled to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D. and figure out your identity, where was the insurance of some other terrorist group not being able to do the same? As convenient as it would be, Michaels hadn’t had to be part of HYDRA at all.

You couldn’t come back.

Not to mention you didn’t believe your family of choice would want you back and you didn’t think you could handle the rejection. Your heart ached at the image of Steve’s cold eyes, pushing you away. You dreamed of it sometimes, of you returning and him greeting you flatly, advising you to come back where you had come from; sometimes, he welcomed you with the warmest smile and ‘ _I missed you so much’_ on his lips before letting them get familiar with yours again.

But in the cold reality, you knew your return was way too risky – for Steve and for your heart as well.

You focused on the lines in front of you, letting each of them get carved into your brain. You learned about Steve being in a hospital, fortunately with his life no longer hanging on a thread. You learned that S.H.I.E.LD. stopped existing, leaving a whole lot of uncovered secrets behind, including the last possible trace of you in Provence – you had left the area months ago after you couldn’t resist and had saved a little girl from getting hit by a car, sadly too obviously. You had had to change the settings of your mask and run after that stunt.

That was how you had found yourself in Prague, building a completely new life once again. You were an English teacher now, a private one, individuals or little groups seeking you out for improving their conversation skills. It was ridiculous how much money people were willing to pay for it – luckily for you. It meant a very flexible schedule and not necessarily meeting the same people regularly, which was relatively safe.

“Brigit!” a voice called out and you jumped in your seat, realizing the woman was addressing you. Damn the fake names!

You looked up with a hasty smile, meeting Eva’s amused expression.

“Spaced a little, aren’t you?”

“Spaced _out_ ,” you corrected her automatically and she gave you a look that told you she was hundred percent done with you. You grinned in return. “Sorry. Just… interesting article. Let’s order some caffeine before we start?”

 _“Yes,_ please. I was working on my thesis for like… well, very long. I barely slept. I need caffeine.”

Your smile turned sympathetic. Late nights you knew too well despite never being a college student. Eva was majoring in biology on top of that, trying to improve her English so she could apply for her dream job, so you couldn’t even imagine the pain.

“You know what? I’m paying today.”

The woman honestly looked as if she wanted to kiss you on spot. Which was kinda ironic, considering how much money she paid you and how little the coffee cost in comparison, but you weren’t about to mention that.

“I’m choosing the most expensive one.”

“I’m sure you are.”

\---

Life went on. Days seemed too long, so you had been adding new students to your flock to keep yourself busy with no time for gloomy thoughts. But the truth was, you were just terribly lonely.

You missed your parents.

You missed your team.

You missed Steve.

And as crazy as it sounded, you missed the insane world of avenging, because the people whose absence was killing you had been a part of that world. Not even starting on the rewarding feeling that would come when managing to save a life.

It was one of those days when you were drowning in loneliness when you learned about yet another adventure the team had been through – maybe it was why the news of Sokovia hit you so hard.

An artificial intelligence trying to take on the world with an army of super-bots under his command and starting with… sending a part of the country literally flying in the air. It ended with that, only thanks to the Avengers and the word was that three more enhanced individuals were seen on the scene, one of them laying down his life.

Three more enhanced. Had the world gone completely crazy? And the one who had died….

The urge to come back, maybe be forgiven, maybe even not being afraid for Steve’s life with what could be new faces on the team… it was stronger than ever. Your heart ached, the homesickness squeezing your lungs and not allowing you to breathe in properly.

You left yet another café in hurry, shooting Petr, the student you were supposed to meet, a quick apology that you were feeling very sick. You apologized for the extremely short notice. He was almost too understanding, but you were grateful that you could just curl up in a ball on your bed and cry for an hour. It cost you all of your strength not to give in to the calling of your powers and start a snowstorm. It would make you weak and you would be found. You kinda wanted to be weak and found, hopefully by your friends.

You didn’t take the risk.

The next day, you woke up with new determination to pick up as many new students as you could to wear yourself down to a bone. For next two weeks, you were desperate to search for some new faces.

With Murphy’s luck, it seemed like too many of yours no longer needed your services and no newbies popped up. It was one of the reasons why you jumped after the opportunity; when Eva mentioned she had this Russian friend who had moved to Prague very recently and seemed so excited about the lessons Eva was still attending, you immediately said yes to a meeting set in an only three days’ notice.

You should have known better.

\---

The woman – Inna, as you learned from Eva’s narration – came to the café with her friend; you had said it would be easier for her to be accompanied instead of Eva taking a picture of you and letting her find you on her own. The true reason behind your actions had been simple – you didn’t want anyone to have your picture, even when wearing the S.H.I.E.L.D. mask.

So Eva entered the Starbucks of your choice with a pretty blonde by her side and gave you a cheerful wave as she spotted you by the stairs; you waited for the blonde to order, while Eva disappeared again to run some errands since she was in the centre of the town.

You guided Inna to a table in a less busy corner of the otherwise crowded room upstairs and you both set your drinks down before shaking hands.

“I’m Brigit. It’s very nice to meet you!” you tried out, previously learning from Eva that Inna’s level of English was pretty good.

The woman, who had seemed rather nervous before, relaxed as she accepted your hand, her shoulders losing the tension in them.

“The pleasure is all mine. I heard a lot about you.”

You were almost taken aback by her voice, heavy with eastern accent; despite the fact you knew where she came from, you expected the accent being less thick. But maybe you were just oversensitive.

“Really? Good things I hope?”

The blonde laughed shortly, her face getting younger. It was easier to see how she and Eva could be friends now. “Oh yes, Eva wouldn’t shut up about you! Shall we start?”

“Sure,” you agreed, gesturing towards the chair. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself and then what would you like our sessions to look like?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Very discreetly shoves Czechia into another fic and smiles innocently* I need to use my knowledge, okay? :D 
> 
> I was considering letting the reader live in Pilsen, but I’m still getting to know it here. There’s a monument I pass every day though, reading “Thank you, America.” It’s mocking me. I actually thought of adding the word ‘Captain’ to a nearby signpost, but I guess I’m not that punk. 
> 
> Pic: (https://www.google.cz/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwiTx72pspneAhVS2KQKHbIIB-cQjRx6BAgBEAU&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.tripadvisor.co.uk%2FLocationPhotoDirectLink-g274706-d7234294-i149906275-Thank_You_America_Memorial-Pilsen_Pilsen_Region_Bohemia.html&psig=AOvVaw3dPn-h82ScepAQ-Fa2wsmW&ust=1540275090085503 )
> 
> Also, BBC’s Sherlock is full of amazing quotes and I feel like re-watching it when I have the time.
> 
> And I’m aware this was a bit of a filler chapter. I’m preparing the ground for the next one, which hopefully will be more eventful ;) (I wonder who that new student might be :D )


	12. 11) Too much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally discovered the following quote thanks to this – http://steverogersdaily.tumblr.com/post/169982420300/stevenvrogers-slias-house

 

_“You are so good. So good, you’re always feeling so much. And sometimes it feels like you’re gonna bust wide open from all the feeling, doesn’t it? People like you are the best in the world, but you sure do suffer for it.” (Silas House)_

 

“I have no idea how I can help you improve your English, you’re almost like a native speaker,” you announced, pretending to be awed.

On the inside, you were freaking out. A lot. The reason was simple; there was something incredibly fishy about your new student and it made your hair stand on the end.

The lesson had been nice – once Inna let go of the insecurity about her accent, she spoke fluently and she made a great conversational partner. You had pulled out one of the difficult worksheets you were using for students you believed to be on a very advanced level and she had no problem with it. Which was the biggest clue, really.

Because this woman didn’t need your help whatsoever.

Also, she was wearing a wig, which was suspicious on its own.

“Thanks!” she exclaimed, sounding excited at the praise. You would almost believe her she was being genuine. _Almost_. “I guess it’s the accent I’m worried about? I mean, I thought that with talking to you, listening to a native speaker, it could get less obvious. I heard not everyone is welcoming to a girl with accent like mine.”

You obediently made a face as you started picking up your stuff, slipping into a light coat. “Ouch. Okay. Well, thank you for the lesson. See you on next Tuesday, the same time?”

“Yeah. Same place?”

You nodded, smiling nervously at her, hoping it didn’t show. “If you want to.”

You might have set up a next meeting with her, but you would be damned if you showed up. You needed to pack your bags and disappear – right now. Maybe even without the bags. You tried to keep your cool when exiting the café, your new student right behind you.

“Where are you heading?” you asked politely, already coming up with a dozen of locations you could answer her with if she asked you the same. Your heart was beating its way out of your chest as you nuzzled your nose into your thick scarf.

Where would you go next? You couldn’t stay in Prague. Should you head for Slovakia? You had heard countless times that the culture was pretty similar to the Czech one and you had kinda grown used to it. Or should you change the environment completely? Escape to Bulgaria? Maybe Italy? You could use some warm weather for a change… then again, Italians were all for hugs and affection and you couldn’t really work with that…

“Oh, Karlín. You?”

Okay, so… you definitely needed a different direction and chances were she would be taking either the subway B line or the tram, which meant you needed to use A. Or maybe go to the other side of the square for C, but that might be too suspicious – God knew what Eva had told this woman about your whereabouts. You couldn’t lie too obviously.

“I’m going to Želivského…. That’s A line subway,” you added when she seemed a bit confused. You walked with her for a bit, parting your ways at the stairs to the subway.

“Alright. Bye, Brigit!”

“Bye, Inna.”

You gave her another quick smile before heading down, forcing your legs to walk on acceptable speed instead of running.

_Head for the A line. Blend in with the crowd and let it slowly carry you to the transfer corridor to the B line. Take the escalator, stand straight, don’t walk up. Exit via B line station. Hop on a tram. Two stations. Change the direction and ride one station back, continue several others as the track goes somewhere else. Get off the tram with a crowd. Get lost in an alleyway as the crowd is passing. Be pulled by a strong-_

“Hey! Let me go! _Nech mě být!”_ you cursed, complaining loudly so you draw attention as someone dragged you aside to an alleyway.

A huge hand covered your mouth and you bit down on it before you could even see who your assailant was. It didn’t matter. They had you and you couldn’t use your powers to reveal yourself, at least not right away. Maybe they would believe they had the wrong person.

“Ow! No biting!” a male voice complained and your rapidly beating heart stopped.

Oh god, oh fuck, _no._

That wasn’t happening. You snapped your gaze to the painfully familiar face with the most honest and genuine blue eyes you had ever encountered and your mind turned blank.

He couldn’t be here. He shouldn’t and he _couldn’t,_ because you had been extremely careful. Apparently not enough and now they found you; whoever ‘ _they’_ were.

And they were using masks and voice disguisers, because you would fucking _swear_ this was the love of your life standing right in front of you. They were playing dirty, taking you by surprise like this.

And they succeeded. Whoever was trying to get to Steve so they could replicate the serum just got themselves a jackpot. Except you were pretty sure you were worthless at this point; but they could never be sure enough of that unless they tried blackmailing the Avengers or Steve himself. Also, Steve would never let anyone die on his watch, so his most likely non-existent feelings weren’t that important.

You were about to scream when the hand muffled the sound again – was it really healed already? Why hadn’t they tried to knock you unconscious yet?

“Goddammit, Frosty! Keep it quiet!”

“Don’t call me that, you bastard!” you muttered into his palm, your knee shooting up to his crotch – he had left it unprotected unwisely.

His face twisted in a grimace that made you feel sorry for Steve even when _your Steve_ wasn’t the one truly suffering. His hand disappeared and you pushed him away with all strength you had, managing to free yourself.

“Wait!” he called out and you barely gave him a glance over your shoulder as you ran off-

 _Correction_. As you _ran into a wall._ With full force, hitting your head so hard that for a moment, you saw the infamous stars behind your eyelids.

You stumbled backwards with a groan and your hand at the injured place, your messy mind coming up with the only solution you had – you woke up your powers, somehow realizing you couldn’t have run into an actual wall, because it simply hadn’t been there before. You barely felt the energy filling your body as the darkness embraced your vision – and the last thing you saw was red plasmatic energy and Inna’s apologetic face.

\---

“Was it really necessary, Wanda?” you heard Steve’s _(not Steve’s)_ voice from a distance and groaned, immediately remembering what had happened. Fuck, you were _so screwed_. “Snowflake?”

“Call me that again and I will freeze your balls off.”

The woman at the side of the bed you were lying on – yeah, really, _bed_ , a bed you weren’t tied to, which was kinda sloppy to be honest – burst out laughing.

“She’s really something. I think I fell in love.”

“Good. Do you think that after you knocked her unconscious, she will fall in love with you too?” the man bit back, smoothening your hair from your forehead. You grabbed his wrist on instinct to stop the motion.

Also, you could feel your mask was off. Wonderful. You opened your eyes to see the wannabe Steve and shot him a pointed look.

“Don’t touch me. I have no fucking idea who you are, but do _not_ touch me. At least be fair and show your real face, you dickbag.”

“That’s a lot of money to the swear jar,” Inna – Wanda? – noted and you eyed her only to see her crossing her arms on her chest. She looked completely different now and confused the hell out of you. She took her wig off, not wearing a mask (or wearing a different one) and the only reason you recognized her as ‘Inna’ was her thick accent. “And since you don’t believe him – or me – let me show you. I can connect two minds on a certain level and will. Good? I’m so glad you agree with this procedure.”

Before you could do a thing, she took the man’s hand from yours and touched both of you simultaneously. You gasped and closed your eyes at the flood of pictures appearing in front of your eyes, the noise, the— the feelings. It knocked the air out of your lungs, flushing over you as a tide wave.

You saw it all. Every single memory of you and Steve, from the first meeting (oh how pathetic and scared you looked) and gaining each other’s trust to the cuddles and the teasing…  

The longing (oh, so much longing, the inner fight, the struggle not to take advantage of you, the desire to kiss you as you smiled at _you? No, him_ ), the love declaration, your first time, fighting by your side (the overwhelming fear every single time, yet so much admiration and respect), finding you in a snowed-in room with Michaels; that one scene seemed to happen in a slow motion, letting your brain recover.

All of the memories were strange as you saw yourself from above, from an unusual angle, but this particular memory was standing out with one more thing – your eyes were shiningly blue, _unnaturally_ even; Michaels had been right, your eyes had changed colour that day.

Then the pace changed again and there was the memory of the tenderest love-making and you could tell immediately it must have been a very fond memory and an intense one too – spiked with a bitter taste of goodbye. The sudden rush of pain and fear would make your knees give up if you would be standing.

And then came the anger – so consuming that you saw red for a second, yet recognizing Michaels in his prisoner’s cell with painful clarity. A punch. Another one and one more, yet not helping the gnawing feeling inside you at all.

_“Why?”_

_“Why what?”_

_“Obviously, you wanted to isolate her. But you had that in Pennsylvania as well. Why go through all the trouble?”_

_“Oh, sweetheart, I knew you would be with her, even as a backup, running after her like sick puppies. She wouldn’t do that alone.  Protecting the man she owed everything though…”_

_“Who do you work for? What do you want with her?”_

_“What I told her. We want to replicate the serum.”_

_“…you’re not talking about the super-soldier serum.”_

_“Course not. Pff. Super-soldiers are so yesterday. The powers your precious Snowflake possesses, on the other hand…”_

You were literally kicked out from the memory and shoved into a roller-coaster of hope, disappointment, frustration and denial. You caught a glimpse of a little flask with an engraving that looked suspiciously like an Asgardian one, of starless nights, endless line of torn off punching bags, but it was like seeing it from a train, too fast and blurry.

And then Bucky appeared. S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. Sokovia happened – _Wanda, Pietro_ and _Vision_ happened.

Finally, there was you again, biting his hand and kneeling him, endless relief and confusion and a spike of anger as you ran into an almost invisible wall of energy created by the Scarlet Witch. The hesitance about deactivating your mask; the rush of affection when seeing your face.

And pitch black.

You blinked your eyes open, darkness dancing around the edges of the simple white ceiling. A ghost of a touch on your wrist was present, but the sensation was nothing in comparison to the aftershock of emotions that bombarded your brain and insides.

Steve was leaning onto your bed for support, possibly feeling the same weakness in his body as you were. Tears burned in your eyes and you tried to focus your gaze on him, to feast your eyes, because you were suddenly sure it was him. Your heart swelled at the realization, the vital organ too large for your ribcage all of sudden.

His dazed eyes met yours, relieved as he noticed the change. He managed to give you an unsure smile as he lowered himself, reaching for your hand.

“Are you gonna bite me again if I touch you?” he asked, the supposedly teasing note lost on the way from his brain to his mouth. He seemed hesitant, afraid of rejection. Yet, he was watching you in awe and poorly hidden hope.

You felt the blood rushing to your cheeks when you remembered that you _had_ bit him and… kicked him in— _oh boy._ You already had an apology on your tongue when you changed your mind and forced a smile. There will be plenty of time for apologies.

“No. But I might if you don’t.”

His face brightened and he took your hand in his, squeezing gently, careful as much as he had been when you had seen each other the last time. It felt like eternity since then. And after experiencing the grief you had caused him… you actually felt guilty for running off – especially now, when you found out Michaels had been playing you and you had fallen for it.

You had run off for nothing. You had actually done exactly what they had wanted, isolating yourself and making their work easier. No contact, no life, no relationships. Hurting people you cared about. Loneliness being your only true friend for so long.

_And all of that for nothing._

It was a little comfort that at least you managed to hide from Michaels’ minions or bosses effectively. It didn’t feel important.

The tears rolled down your cheeks as you watched Steve, emotions displayed so openly on his face; the concern at your tears if nothing else. His fingers brushed your forehead as if unwittingly, the tender touch making your eyelids flutter close. He immediately pulled back.

“Head that bad?”

“No, you dope,” you mumbled, snapping your eyes open again. He watched you curiously, searching for anything that could clue him why you called him a _dope._ Not that it was the worst thing you had called him today. “I… I missed you and— and I’m so sorry, Steve. I-- I know I made a stupid mistake and I didn’t want to hurt you, I swear, I didn’t want you to _get hurt-_ ”

“Hey, hey,” he soothed you quickly, his fingers running through your hair and you realized you started _crying_ for real, sobbing and all the ugliness associated with the display of weakness. “Hey, Snowflake, it’s okay— …it’s not okay, I think I won’t take you back to others, because Natasha or Tony might actually kill you, but-“

“But _you_ won’t? What do I get then? The silent treatment? A beating? ‘Cause I’ll take it, I know I deserve it.”

His eyebrows furrowed, creating a worried yet somehow tender wrinkle. “How about ‘I missed you too’ treatment?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized his face got closer, his thumb drawing circles on the back of your hand and the fingers of his other hand still caressing your hair.

“What— what does that look like?” you choked out, a growing lump in your throat suffocating you.

That couldn’t be real. He was mad. You had _felt it_. You had felt it all, the good things too of course, but the pain too. Fixing things, getting forgiveness, it couldn’t be so easy. _Too easy_.

“Whatever you want.”

You observed his handsome face, his worn features, the exhaustion radiating for miles as well as delight and careful hope.

“That doesn’t sound right.”

He pouted. Steve Rogers fucking pouted as if he wanted to draw attention to his lips some more. He succeeded. You licked yours at the sight, mentally slapping yourself at instant. You had broken his heart – almost two years ago. You had no right to want any of that.

“Oh my god, just kiss already, your emotional roller-coaster is killing me!” Wanda whined miserably and you honest to god jolted to your feet, almost colliding with startled Steve. Your head spun and it wasn’t only from the rapid movement.

Jesus, you forgot all about Wanda!

 _“Wanda,”_ Steve murmured lowly, no chance of her truly hearing it. You did though and you eyed him, biting your lip.

“Do you-“ you blurted out and stopped abruptly before you could finish the bold question.

“What?” he asked softly, his hands hovering at your sides, ready to catch you if your head decided to send you back to unconsciousness – or at least to the floor. _Always the protector._ The rush of affection towards him was too much to bear.

Yet, you couldn’t imagine leaving this room without him.

“Never mind. We should move. If _you_ found me, then they-“

His hand actually fell on your hip and your gaze shot its direction before looking up to his face in surprise.

“Wait. _Do you?”_

You gulped as his eyes flickered to your mouth at his words and you would swear you heard Wanda mutter _‘yes, she does’._ Your cheeks burned hotter.

_“Yes.”_

His lips slowly spread in a smile as he leaned in, his kiss landing on your cheek. You chuckled delightfully at the familiar yet so foreign feeling and returned the favour.

When he went for your mouth with silent ‘Can I?’, you sure didn’t protest.

Meeting his lips felt like coming home, even with the kiss ending way earlier than you wished. But him letting you melt into his embrace after that was almost as good as kissing him senseless.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Draws a hallo above her head* Have some more knowledge of Prague infrastructure. It’s authentic :D
> 
> They reunited! Also, there’s only epilogue ahead. 
> 
> And I’m thinking about a bonus – that would have Matt in it. What else is new.
> 
> Thank you sticking around!


	13. Epilogue - Home

“Hey, Cap. Who’s this beauty?” was the first sentence you heard when you entered the compound after getting off the quinjet with Steve and Wanda.

Your head snapped up towards the person for a second before you lowered you gaze as you saw him looking at you. Your cheeks burned under the man’s detailed inspection. You continued walking by Steve’s side with your gaze stubbornly focused on the floor, refusing to look at the stranger again. Even when he was offering you a friendly grin.

And then Steve stopped as a hand appeared in your field of vision. You obediently accepted, politely meeting the man’s eyes. He was grinning widely now, white teeth in stark contrast to his dark skin, and instead of shaking your hand, he planted a tiny kiss on its back. You blushed harder which made his eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Sam Wilson, ma’am.”

You whispered your name shyly, just _knowing_ Steve rolled his eyes at the guy. You were slowly realizing who this Sam Wilson could be. _The Falcon_. The guy who had helped Steve and Natasha during the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., probably saving their lives on multiple occasions. You owed him big time.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Sam Wilson.”

“You’re even cuter in person.”

“Uhm, I—… thanks?” you stuttered, eyeing Steve questioningly.

He shot Sam a pointed look saying ‘that would be enough, pal,’ and you bit your lip, wondering what that was about. Sam was happy to deliver.

“No wonder I found Cap staring at your picture as if it was a relic. Should’ve seen him-“

“Yeah, okay, let’s move on,” Steve interjected as your lips parted in surprise and Steve grabbed your forearm as gently as a supersoldier could and led you further into the base.

You only managed to wave at Sam awkwardly and he waved back before turning to talk to Wanda. Steve cleared his throat as the door clicked shut behind you two and you found yourselves in a long corridor with a line of windows instead of walls.

“He— we were hiding at his place before taking down S.H.I.E.L.D. It was… I needed a moment-” he stumbled over his words and you covered his hand with yours, unable to stop the smile attacking your lips.

He seemed embarrassed, but you… you were just _moved_. He had been thinking of you. Even in difficult times. He truly must have been looking for you the whole time. He had cared that much.

Naturally, with the warming feeling came a pang of shame. Guess you would have to get used to the sinking feeling in your stomach now whenever you would be reminded of the mess you had made. 

The flight to the compound had been rather silent, occasionally filled with catching up on the big events for the Avengers, but it had never got too personal. You weren’t sure of the boundaries, so you danced around each other carefully – and Sam Wilson had prodded them big time. It was a bit uncomfortable, more so for Steve. So you offered something in return.

“I have a picture too, you know,” you admitted quietly, and Steve’s blue eyes met yours with an undeniable spark of relief. “It was stupid and reckless to have it on me, but… yeah.”

He just shook his head and started walking again. But he let go of your forearm in favour to take your hand. You could sense the hesitation radiating from him at the action, the same kind he could probably feel from you. So you interlaced your fingers with his, letting him know you were willing to go as far he would lead you.

Peripherally, you could see him smile. You fell into what could be a comfortable silence as you made your way through, barely meeting a soul. It was why it surprised you when Steve stopped abruptly. You quickly followed his example, looking at him in silent question.

His expression was serious and… bashful? Ashamed?

“There’s something you should know about. And… more importantly, you need to know it didn’t mean anything.”

You froze, vainly attempting to brace yourself for whatever was to come. Oh god. What now? _‘Didn’t mean anything?’_ If it was any other guy, you would swear he was about to tell he had cheated on you. Which _technically_ couldn’t happen, because you had left without a word, and you were not really— a _couple_ , so it would be _cheating_ and-

“Yes?” you forced out the single word, vainly trying to cover the nervousness.

Steve gulped, looking at you as if he broke your favourite toy or something.

“I kissed Natasha.”

You blinked, unable to process the words he said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Actually, she kissed me! It wasn’t— it didn’t mean-- it was for the mission! STRIKE was after us and she said that--- and then she---- and I had to-“

You watched him as he was struggling with words, his cheeks coloured with the subtlest shade of red, utterly embarrassed and still sounding so guilty. Your brain slowly caught up with what he was saying and then you couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing.

Steve stopped in midsentence – or in mid-whatever, really – and stared at you, confused. You laughed harder, the sound seemingly so foreign to you after such a long time.

“PDA, right?” you explained instead of him and he tilted his head, his mouth moving with no sound coming out. “She kissed you so no one would look at you too closely.”

“How-“

“Steve, you weren’t the only one to train me, remember? She did too. And she has her ways.”

“…oh. So… that means you’re… okay with that?”

“Steve, I would have no right to be mad in the first place. I… I lost the right the moment I left,” you added silently, a lump suddenly growing in your throat as the conversation took a very different turn.

“That’s not-“

“And even so, I understand. I would have done the same. Hell, I would have kissed Natasha myself and I’m not into women.”

“I’m flattered,” sounded from your right and you jumped away from Steve, your head snapping the direction of the new and yet so familiar voice. You heart fluttered happily at the sight of your friend. Or… maybe ex-friend, after the stunt you had pulled out.

 “…Hey, Natasha.”

“Frosty,” she greeted you with a nod, taking few steps closer and that was all she did. You awkwardly rubbed your fingers as your arms itched to hug her.

“I… uhm… how are you lately?”

Natasha raised her perfect eyebrow in silent challenge, approaching you slowly with her eyes intently fixed on you. You fought against gulping in fright; that was _Agent Romanov_ approaching and she was intimidating as hell.

But the redhead stopped a step in front of you, still holding your gaze.

“Good work with staying of the grid. I‘m proud of you. ”

Your eyes went wide, your heart positively skipping a beat. You had heard wrong, right? Did Natasha just… compliment you on your hiding skills instead of telling you that you had been an idiot? You opened your mouth, no sound coming out. You were standing there in stunned silence, just staring at her strict features, her expression nothing but honest. She actually was proud of you.

_Come again?_

“Uhm… thanks. But I was found…?”

She snorted. “Frosty? You were never taught how to avoid a damn mind-reader. We’ll work on that.”

You gave her an unsure smile. “Thanks, _Tasha_. I learned from the best.”

She smirked and gave you a short hug you instantly melted into. “Sure did. Looking forward to next movie night. We’re watching the adaptation of Dostojevskij’s Idiot.”

You froze as she let go of you. Well. You never read it or saw the movie, you had no idea what the plot was, but you were sure it wasn’t important – you got the message. Natasha watched you with a gleam of coldness in her eyes and an icy smile, finally truly open.

Well. Shit.

“You _are_ mad at me,” you stated, your voice strangled. Her wolfish smile widened.

“I’m pissed, Frosty. Furious. But also glad you’re home. I haven’t decided yet. But you should watch your back for when I will.”

And with a wink, she walked out of the room, abandoning you and Steve. You bit your lip, slowly turning to him, Natasha’s reaction feeding the guilt in you. How much was Steve actually angry with you? How much _more_ than he was letting on?

He gave you a soft smile as he noticed the bashful look in your eyes, in the eyes of a frightened animal and guilty child who knew they had done something really wrong. With two long steps, he was right in front of you, gently wrapping his arms around you. You buried your face to his chest and curled into his form, even when you had no right to accept the comfort he was offering.

“I am so sorry, Steve. I promise I never wanted to-“

Steve placed a tender kiss on the top of your head, his warm hand caressing your back. You felt the tears gathering in your eyes again. The moment they started soaking his t-shirt, he sighed and embraced you tighter.

“Hey, none of that. You heard her – yes, she’s angry. We all are, but that’s because we care for you so much and we missed you. When you were gone… things weren’t exactly easy. Not just because of you not being with us, but in general.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when the S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and when Bucky— and the robot apocalypse-“ you sobbed, a pitiful and lame action, but you just couldn’t stop. You _wanted_ him to know how sorry you were, even when all you had done had been trying to protect him, but you needed to start making it up to him and not… not seeking comfort.

“And we all know that. And we know why you did what you did, Snowflake.”

“Listen to the old man, he’s right,” a confident voice exclaimed behind you and you honest to god _yelped_. Thank god the noise was muffled by Steve’s t-shirt. You jerked from his grip, spinning to Tony, only to meet his grin. “Hey, Elsa. I’m out of dried blueberries. Lend a hand to a sugar-deprived genius?”

His tone was so easy despite you knowing for a fact that you had given him sleepless nights and a whole shit-tone of work; there was really no choice to make. You paced to him, throwing your arms around him, making him swing a little as your bodies collided. What was he doing here? Steve had told you he was in mostly in the Tower…?

Tony chuckled, automatically returning the hug, if more gently. You squeezed him tighter, ignoring the metal on his chest digging into your own sternum.

“I’m sorry, Tony.”

“Yeah, I know, kid. Welcome home.”

“Oh. Are we doing a group hug? ‘Cause I’m up for one,” Clint exclaimed somewhere on your right and a second later, he joined the mess of tangled limps.

“It is a lovely sight of a family reunion,” a new voice commented and you blinked your eyes open. It didn’t sound threatening and Steve was not part of the group hug, so you assumed he had the situation under control and the stranger wasn’t a threat.

Though… he did look pretty _strange_. He was not human for sure, hovering a feet above the floor, a long cape falling from his shoulders, giving him an aura of royalty. His lips (lips?) curled up in a small smile. You remembered him faintly from Steve’s memories, but you couldn’t quite place him.

“Welcome home, Lady of Ice.”

 _Oh_. Definitely a friend of Thor’s. That would explain the cape too.

“Thank you,” you choked out, not really able to breathe as your non-related father and uncle kept you strangled. “Sir.”

“I’m Vision, but I’m sure there will be time for introductions later. Captain,” he beckoned to Steve and… flew away through the wall.

Your mouth fell open, but you let it slide. There would be time later indeed. You weren’t planning on going anywhere.

You were home. And it wasn’t a place. Home was people.

\---

You weren’t surprised to find out there was an accommodation complex at the base, but what had surprised you a little – and it shouldn’t, not really – was that Steve was staying at the same floor as the rest of the soldiers. While he had told you he had a room for himself, it was still an undeniable proof of him trying to fit in, at least in a way. It brought a smile to your lips.

He unlocked one of the door near the end of the corridor, pushing it open to reveal a rather simple room; single bed with a bedside table, a couch and a plain wooden table with a single chair by it. There was another door, to a bathroom you assumed. It was no five-star hotel, but you weren’t expecting it – in fact, it was way better than you could ask for.

You hesitantly entered the space, noticing a small closet in the corner. The room _was_ more than you could ask for, but it was painfully empty. Just like you were used to.

“So… that’s your room for now. Mine’s just the next-door if you needed anything,“ Steve whispered and you turned back to him, finding him standing in the doorway.

And with that sight, the room suddenly looked way brighter. Warmer. Homey. It wasn’t hard to figure out why.

“Can I sleep in yours?” you blurted out hastily. A second after, you clasped your hand over your mouth as his eyes widened. What did you just say?! “I mean— I didn’t-- of course I can’t, that was stupid--- I just---- I- I forgot my bag on the jet, I’m just gonna-“

“Uhm. I mean… we can find you a different room if this isn’t-“

“No! That’s not— I… I take the couch. I just… I… I don’t want to sleep alone. It’s stupid. It’s ridiculous, I know, it’s just-“ you stuttered, unable to meet his gaze, looking everywhere but at him.

The silence fell onto the room like a heavy blanket for what felt like eternity and you bit your lower lip. You couldn’t bear the silence anymore and Steve was apparently not about to break it. When you glanced at him, you could see a soft smile spread on his lips and he took few steps towards you, his eyes roaming your face.

“You can sleep wherever you like. I’d offer sharing my room myself, but I… I wasn’t sure, I didn’t want to make you… uncomfortable,” he offered gently and you bit your lip harder.

You stared into his honest eyes, drowning in the hesitant hope behind the sea of blue. You hated yourself for making him feel this way – for making him feel like he needed to _hope_ you wanted to be with him. And yet, you felt so warm under his gaze, still loved despite not deserving it at all. Perhaps it was not surprising – Steve had troubles letting people go, holding onto them until their last breath. You didn’t think you were worthy of it, but it was not up to you to decide and you weren’t about to reject the blessing. Question it, maybe, but never reject.

You reluctantly raised your palm to his face, your trembling fingers brushing his jaw.

“How are you still treating me like this? I don’t— I hurt you. I-“

His hand caught your daring one, pressing it against his cheek firmly.

“I told you, Snowflake,” he breathed and your heart stopped at the addressing, so tender and filled with affection. “I’m whatever you need me to be.”

When he pressed a tender kiss to your palm, while keeping his gaze locked into yours, you couldn’t bear it and looked away.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in, his lips moving impossibly close to your ear.

“Would you like to sleep in my room tonight?”

“Yes,” escaped your lips without thinking.

His embrace tightened as he gave a barely noticeable nod. “Would you let me kiss you?”

“Yes.”

And so he did. Slowly. Tenderly. Deeply. It took your breath away in every sense of the word and just like the last time you had received a kiss this intense, you let the tears damp your cheeks, spicing yours and Steve’s lips with salt.

If he had asked you if you would let him strip you and fuck you into a mattress, you would have said yes too. But he didn’t. Instead, he lifted you from the ground, his lips barely leaving yours, and carried you to his room bridal style, laying you on his bed.

Your bag forgotten, you fell asleep soon after your lips finally parted and he hid you in his protective arms.

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my home turf – fluff. Embrace it. Enjoy it. Let the healing light come in.
> 
> And let me know what you thought ;)
> 
> If you’re not interested in the bonus – which is mostly about a reunion with Matt – this is it for you :) So thank you so much for reading, leaving kudos or even commenting. I appreciate it greatly and it’s warming up my heart. Thank you ♥


	14. Bonus: Friend in need

Your days had been filled with patching things up with Steve (you had moved in with him within a day), getting to know Wanda and Vision, trying to redeem yourself in Natasha’s eyes and being teased by Sam Wilson in the friendliest way. The days were full of hesitance, awkward conversations, bashful looks, but also with laughter and sense of camaraderie.

You would train with the team too and interact with the soldiers and staff at the compound. You couldn’t but notice some recruits shooting you curious and hungry looks as you were a new piece of meat at the base – and mostly you couldn’t help but grin mentally at their suggestive smiles freezing on their lips as Captain America himself casted them a murderous look. Life was good.

The only thing truly bothering you (apart from no contact to your parents, naturally), was the lack of response to your attempts at reconnecting with Matt. Before you had disappeared, you would sometimes hang out with him, occasionally with his colleagues too, and you would talk about everything. Sometimes you would lend him a helping hand when dealing with the crime in Hell’s Kitchen despite Steve being a bit sore about it.

You had been trying to get in touch with Matt and he just wouldn’t answer.

Of course, he could have just been pissed at you, but you sensed there was more – you had read about Frank Castle’s trial Nelson and Murdock had blown up (especially Matt, actually), about a shooting and a hostage situation with Daredevil on the scene, and you were truly worried about him.

So when an invitation from Tony to an event he was hosting at the Tower came about a month after you had arrived to the compound, you practically begged Steve to come, even when you could get to the centre of the city in many different ways and for various different reasons. You weren’t ashamed to share your ulterior motives – and Steve was being strangely understanding. After all, he knew what it was like to hear radio silence from someone he cared about.

You headed to the Tower an evening before the party, Tony greeting you enthusiastically and directing you to your old rooms which remained almost untouched. You weren’t surprised, but it left you touched anyway.

With Steve’s blessing and a kiss on your forehead, you headed to Hell’s Kitchen in hoping to reconnect with your friend.

When he opened the door after what could be five minutes of your insistent knocking, you froze.

Sure, you had expected him to look like crap – Nelson and Murdock had apparently fell apart and he must have been exhausted by the rather recent event, but… you weren’t ready for the empty eyes and the bruise-like circles under them. He _greeted_ you in loose sweatpants and a hoodie, thick fluffy socks, hair a mess, dark stubble on his jaw and… _the eyes_.

You gulped, trying to get it together as your heart felt like beating its way out of your chest. _Jesus, Matt._ You took a deep breath – before you could even open your mouth, he cut you off with husky voice.

“Leave me alone.”

A chill ran down your spine as your heard him speak up. The emotion behind his voice – deeply buried under the thick layer of flatness – was enough to make your head spin and crush your soul.

 _“Christ, Matt,”_ you breathed out, your eyes stinging at the sight of your friend hurting so badly. He didn’t call you out on the blasphemy.

“I asked you to leave. I would appreciate if you listened.”

With those words, he closed the door – or tried to, while you stuck your foot in the doorway and your hand shot up on instinct. An annoyed expression twisted his emotionless face. It got you wonder – for some reason it felt familiar.

 _Too familiar,_ you realized.

“Don’t… please don’t do that,” you pleaded, your palm pushing against the wood of the door. He didn’t bother with using too much strength to hold it on place – or perhaps he didn’t even have more to spend. “If you’re pissed at me, that’s okay. I know I deserve it. But don’t do this to me, not because you think it’s better for me to be pushed away.”

Because that was exactly what he was doing. You weren’t stupid and you had done your reading. You knew Karen had been one of the hostages. You could just imagine what it had done to him, knowing a person he cared for deeply had been in danger because of him. You knew that feeling too. All too well.

“Sounds rich, coming from you,” he replied sternly, pushing a bit harder at both fronts; trying to shut the door and making an appeal at your consciousness by calling you a hypocrite without actually saying it.

“I did what I did to protect people.”

Only short silence followed your statement. When you heard his next words, you wished it lasted longer.

“A woman died to save my life. If it wasn’t for me, she would have still been alive. But she was too close. Of all people, you should understand. And you should leave now.”

“I’m so sorry, Matt,” you whispered honestly, just another cup to pour into the ocean of your guilt. He had been suffering and you hadn’t been there. What else was new?

He chuckled humourlessly.

“That’s cute, but it doesn’t change a thing. I’m no good to be around and now we both know why. Go home to your boyfriend, Snowflake.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he blatantly mentioned you and Steve, using the endearment venomously. It made you feel as guilty as crept out – guilty, because… well, you and Matt could have been a thing if you hadn’t chosen Steve over him, and crept out, because an the end of the day, you knew you would never get over the extent of his abilities. He could probably smell Steve on you, yours and his pheromones hinting him the nature of your relationship even so shortly after your return. You couldn’t help but blush at the thought.

But the shyness was short-lived, soon replaced by righteous indignation and determination. You understood Matt was grieving. And that he was – God forbid someone called him out on it – scared. You knew all of those feelings and you were painfully aware of what they did to a person. Just like you were goddamn sure that isolation did no good.

“You’re right. I do understand what you’re doing and why. And it would be totally hypocritical of me to judge you for doing the same I once did. But it took my friends two years to find my hideout and show me I was wrong – and you don’t have to make the same mistake. You can save the precious time.”

He scoffed, trying to hide the strange gleam in his eye you had caused; you could tell your words had affected him, even if a little.

“I’m here, Matt,” you continued, letting a softer note into your voice. “And I will be here when you decide to call me, maybe even a little sooner, because I care about you. I’m sorry for your loss. I’ll see you around, Matt.”

And you spun on your heels, leaving him standing in the doorway, apparently stunned. He didn’t say goodbye or closed the door as long as you were within earshot. Maybe not a while after. You weren’t sure what it meant.

You were halfway to the Tower when a ding announced a received text. You landed on the ground a bit ungracefully, pulling your phone out with impatience, mentally thanking Tony for making it happen that you still had the same number. Your lips spread in a relieved smile as you read it, turning the very same direction you came from and heading back.

**_Too soon to ask for your visit?_ **

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pfghffffff. Done!  
> Couldn’t resist and added a little bit of Matty in the end. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, lemme tell you I don’t give a crap about timelines. Reader returns after the end of season 2 of Daredevil, and it’s few weeks after the events of Age of Ultron – because I said so :D 
> 
> Also, I totally blame this last bit of a chapter on season 3 feelings I’m still dealing with. Because while I adore the avocado ending of S3, Matt needed a friend (especially when pushing them away) at the end of S2. Fixed it.
> 
> If you made it even this far, I need to thank you. I cherish every single one of you, more so if you left kudos or even a comment. These are all enormous fuels and they warm up my heart. So, thank you ♥


End file.
